Citation
The children's voyage, or, A trip in the Water Fairy

Material Information

Title:
The children's voyage, or, A trip in the Water Fairy
Portion of title:
Trip in the Water Fairy
Creator:
Cupples, George, 1839-1898
Duncan, Edward, 1804-1882 ( Illustrator )
Marcus Ward & Co
Royal Ulster Works
Place of Publication:
London
Belfast
Publisher:
Marcus Ward & Co.
Royal Ulster Works
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
126, [1] p. : ill. (some col.) ; 22 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Sick -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Motherless families -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Nannies -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Parent and child -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1875 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1875
Genre:
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Northern Ireland -- Belfast
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Date of publication based on binding indicating publication in the 1870's.
General Note:
Color illustrations are pasted on.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
by Mrs. George Cupples ; illustrated with chromographs from the originals in water-colors, by Edward Duncan.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026540225 ( ALEPH )
ALG0313 ( NOTIS )
71279286 ( OCLC )

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Full Text






FE. EAE

The Baldwin Library
University

RMB wii







THE CHILDREN’S VOYAGE.













YACHTS RACI

17

ERITH—P.

&
i
°

NG—











t THE

CHILDRENS VOYAGE

OR

_ A TRIP IN THE WATER FAIRY

BY
Mrs. GEORGE CUPPLES
AUTHOR OF ‘‘KATTY LESTER,” ‘‘TAPPY’S CHICKS,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED WITH CHROMOGRAPHS
FROM THE ORIGINALS IN WATER-COLORS, BY EDWARD DUNCAN
MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF PAINTERS IN WATER-COLORS





London +

t MARCUS WARD & 0O., CHANDOS STREET, COVENT GARDEN
And ROYAL ULSTER WORKS, BELFAST







WF
ig

wt











BELFAST:
PRINTED BY MARCUS WARD & CO.,
RoyaL ULSTER WORKS.
se
Note.—THE CHROMOGRAPHS ARE FACSIMILES OF THE ORIGINAL DRAWINGS MADE FOR
VERE Foster, Esqg., By E. DUNCAN, MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF

PAINTERS IN WATER-COLORs.













CONTENTS.



Yacuts Racine—Orr Errta (Chromograph ), ; Frontispiece.
A Punasant SURPRISE
Toe Water Fairy Sers Our
Outwarp Bounp—Tus THames orr GRavesenD (Chromogruph.)
Av Sza—Treasures or THE DEEP
Fisuine Boats Going Our—Orr Norroux ( Chromograph )
Tue Sxiprer’s Story
Tae Apanponep Sup (Chromograph) .
Maxine tHe Best or a Catm
Homsewarp Bounp—Taxine in a Pinot (Chromograph)
On tHe Humper
Comine Into THE HuMBER—FISHERMEN ON THE Loox-ouT (Chromograph )
Rosin Hoon’s Bay
Passine Wuitsy (Chromograph )
In Dancer . ; .
Burt Noox (Chromograph )
Tue Eppystoyg LicutHouss .
Ditto Ditto ( Chromograph )
OvER THE BoRDER
Tue Pier at Burwick (Chromograph) .
Autcr’s First VoracE
Orr tHe Iste or Arran (Chromograph )
Tue Bass Rock .
Ditto ( Chromograph)
Ros Rov’s Cave

PAGE

b4
58
63
70
73
79
83
87
91
99
101

. 108

110

. 118

118












THE CHILDREN’S VOYAGE.



A PLEASANT SURPRISE.










g| WO little pale faces looking at each other
out of two little brass crib-beds, placed at
opposite corners of the roomy and cheerful
nursery, at the top of a large house; and a

~ hale, old, pleasant-eyed woman sitting by



= the fire, carefully stirring at some stuff in a
pipkin, and humming to herself some slow ditty, while



Z, often she nodded, and smiled over her shoulder to them.

Such is the group with which our story sets out.

The little pale faces were those of Cicely and Frank Hamilton,
who had been ill, not only with measles, but with hooping-cough
also. A weary time it had been to both, and an anxious as well
as a weary time to old Betty, their faithful nurse. They lived in
one of the West-end suburbs of London, where every comfort
surrounded them, with not a few luxuries; but the winter and
spring had been trying for children, and these two had suffered
severely. They were very much dependent upon good, old Scotch
Betty, because their mamma was dead, and their papa at busi-
ness in the city all day; so that, even when recovering, they saw











10 Lhe Children’s Voyage.



him very little, and now only for a few minutes in the evening.
Still, short though his visit was, it was looked forward to by both
as the happiest time in the long day ; for Mr. Hamilton did not
only bring home some nice, pretty gift, but had always some-
thing funny or pleasant to relate. “It was such a pity,” Betty
used to say, “that gentlemen like their papa should be kept so
closely engaged at work in that dirty, smoky town. For her
part she did not see why it was so, when he had everything that
a human being could want; a fine house, a carriage, plenty to
eat and drink and to give to his friends. But there he is, work-
ing as hard as ever—harder, indeed, since the death of Mrs.
Hamilton, and leaving his children to pine and get sickly over
their dull, monotonous life.”

As Betty sat, staring at her sauce-pan, if you had looked
closely at her, you would have seen a smile quivering for a
moment round the corners of her firm mouth, and her grey eyes
gleaming under her thick eyebrows. She had been making up her
mind to speak seriously to Mr. Hamilton for ever so many days,
about his seeing so little of his children; and that very morning
she had put into execution her threat of giving the master a bit
of her mind. She had, as she said, “made him properly ashamed.
of himself, and just what he ought to be, too; neglecting two of
the bonniest bairns” (Betty was, as we have said, a Scotch-
woman,) “that anyone could wish to see.” She had gone about,
after her master’s departure for the city, purring like a good-
natured old cat ; quite forgetting to scold the cook even for
sending up the beef-tea weaker than she quite approved of, She
was pleased with herself, as was quite apparent to all; and no
wonder, for, though Mr. Hamilton was of an easy disposition, it











A Pleasant Surprise. il



was well known he did not like to be dictated to by any of his
household. Betty was certainly headstrong, and would have
thought little of confronting the whole staff of servants in a
body, old Martin the butler included ; still, even she had taken
a few days beforehand to think over her speech. To Betty’s
great astonishment, her master took her first words quite
mildly, and she, encouraged by his manner, did not stop till her
whole mind had been spoken. Mr. Hamilton’s eyebrows had
contracted somewhat ominously, when she reminded him that,
whatever wealth might be gained, yet, in the making, it would
soon turn to dross and tinsel if he lost his children. “My good
woman,” Mr. Hamilton had said, “what do you want me to do?”
To which Betty replied, “Just bide more at home, sir, with the
poor things, for its waesome to think their father never as much
as takes a drive in the park with them ; and, as for walking out
hand-in-hand, which is about the bonniest sight a body can see,
why the very bairns that belong to the man wi’ the cuddy-cart
and the vegetables are better off, for he walks them out every
Sabbath day.”

Mr. Hamilton had not made any further reply to Betty, ex-
cept by dismissing her at the time with an emphatic, “ That will
do, Betty.” But Betty knew her words had had some effect, and
retired to the nursery triumphant, remarking to one of the maids,
that “she kenned the master fine—it was like a barbit arrow
that she had planted into him, and it would stick there till it led
to something.”

It was drawing towards the afternoon, and Betty was warm-
ing some chicken soup, which Frank had taken a fancy to have;
when he called out, “1 do think it 7s a shame—I’m sure the

















12 The Children’s Voyage.



measles was bad enough—but to end in hooping-cough!—oh, I’m
tired-of my life, I really am!”

“Oh, Frank, how can you speak so, when we are both so
much better again?” said his sister. “It is quite wicked of you;
it is indeed.”

“ Aye, Miss Cicely,” said Betty, “he’s a bad laddie to say
such a thing, an’ he just escapit frae the very jaws of death
himsel’.”

“ Well, I can’t help it,” said Frank. “I’m tired of my life,
and I want to get up. I know I’m far stronger to-day ; in-
deed I feel as if I could run from one end of London to the
other—and, as for eating, I could eat you, Betty, if you were in
the shape of anything nice.”

Frank and Cicely were laughing at the joke, when the door
opened, and in walked their papa at a much earlier hour than
anyone had ever seen him return from the city before. It was
not surprising that Cicely should cry out, “ Oh, papa, I hope you
are not ill, too ?”—for Martin, the butler, who never allowed
himself to be surprised at anything, had been so startled below,
that he had asked the same question, Mr. Hamilton had re-
plied to him in rather an abrupt manner, but at sight of the
children’s surprised faces, and Betty’s evident astonishment, he
could not help laughing. “JU!” said he, “what has put that
idea into your heads? Betty has been scolding me for not spend-
ing more of my time beside you, so I have come away from
business to-day to please her.”

“Qh, papa, do you really mean to say you are to spend the
afternoon with us?” said Frank ; and, when he was answered in
the affirmative, he fairly screamed with delight. “Oh, if Betty







A Pleasant Surprise. 13



would only let us get out of bed, just for a little, it would be
perfectly delightful.”

“And if you could take tea with us, papa,” said Cicely, “it
would be -



But Cicely could not finish her sentence for the
tears that would roll out of her eyes with very happiness.

To their intense satisfaction their papa not only said he could
not see why they should not be allowed to get up for a little, but
went off himself to order two of the most comfortable easy-chairs
to be brought up for them; and made them laugh by saying
that, though he was always accustomed to have a longer invita-
tion—one sent in a proper form—still, for once, he would waive
ceremony, and stay to tea.

Could a happier little girl have been found in the whole of
London, that afternoon, than Cicely Hamilton? We do not
think so. There she sat, pouring out cup after cup of tea, which
her papa never seemed to be tired of drinking. Fortunately the
cups were her best doll’s-china, brought out by Betty herself ;
which showed she, too, considered their guest was some special
one, for that particular set of china was only allowed to be looked
at, not used; and this fact made Cicely all the more dignified,
as she said afterwards, “It was like entertaining the Queen, or
some great personage.” To which Frank replied, somewhat in-
dignantly, “Id rather have papa to tea than all the queens in
the world.” .

“No, Miss Cicely, I really cannot drink any more,” said Mr.
Hamilton. “You are exceedingly kind; but I think I must
have taken thirty cups already.” ,

“Oh, no, papa, not quite so many,” said Cicely. “ Do have
just one more, if you please !”











14 The Children’s Voyage.



“ Well, I shall just have one more,” said Mr. Hamilton. And
the little tea-pot was filled again from Betty’s large one, and
poured out with renewed ceremony. ‘“ You make such good tea,
Cis,” he continued, “that I think I shall have you to pour out
mine in the drawing-room after this.”

“Yes indeed, papa!” said Cicely ; “ but could I manage the
great silver tea-pot ? and would Martin allow me 2”

“Oh, I did not think of that,” said Mr. Hamilton, laughing.
“Well, make haste and get strong, and we shall see about it.
Meanwhile, I shall come up and have it out of these dainty
dishes. I see Betty knows how to make tea. I must really go;
there is the dressing-bell: but how am I to eat any dinner after
drinking so much tea ?”

“Oh, must you go, papa?” cried Cicely. “ The dressing-bell
already,” said Frank; “ how fast the time has slipped away!”

Towards the end of the week, Mr. Hamilton again came home
early ; but by this time the children were able to be carried to
the school-room, where they were renewing acquaintance once
more with their toys and playthings. When he entered, Cicely
instantly asked him if he would stay to tea again, but Mr.
Hamilton said he had not time, as he had a friend with him in
the library. He had only come up to deliver an invitation to them
from this gentleman to join him in a very pleasant excursion.

“An excursion, papa!” cried both of them. “Oh, how de-
lightful!”

“And a nice, long one, too,” was the reply, with an arch
smile ; “something quite different from any you have ever had.”
And their papa went on to explain that it was on account of
their health. It turned out to be no less than a trip by sea, ina











A Pleasant Surprise. 15



yacht belonging to Mr. Simcox, a city friend of Mr. Hamilton,
and always a very kind one to the children on his visits. Mr.
Simcox’s children had also been ill about the same time as the
little Hamiltons, with the same complaints—these having been
very common during that spring ; and the doctor had strongly
recommended a great change of air, but, above all, something
like a voyage.

“What! out on the open sea?” cried Frank. “ Oh, glorious!
Do, pray, let us go, papa—-we should enjoy it so much!”

Cicely was not quite so enthusiastic as her brother, for Betty
had told many stories about her voyage from Scotland, and those
about the waves and the storms were so thrilling, that the little
girl was somewhat nervous at the thought. Betty’s exclamation
—“Oh! mercy me, sir, surely you will never let the bairns go in
such a cockle-shell of a thing as thae yachts!”—did not help to
calm Cicely’s mind. But she was not a selfish girl, and, seeing
Frank was go eager, she kept her fears in the backeround ; while,

-as for any hesitation she had shown, it was put down to her
shyness in meeting the strange little girls.

“T suppose the children and you can be ready by Thursday,
Betty ?” said Mr. Hamilton, rising to go. “Mr. Simcox has
kindly put off sailing on Wednesday, so I should not like any
further delay.”

“ Me, sir!” cried Betty. “Did you mean me to go too, in
that bit of a fishing-boat 2”

“ Yes, certainly, Betty,” was the answer. “The children, of
course, cannot go alone in their weak state, and, what’s more,
nurse, it is to Scotland that we are going.”

“No possible, sir,” exclaimed Betty, with uplifted hands and









16 The Children’s Voyage.



wondering eyes, “to Scotland, no less! That’s a different story,
no doubt. The fine caller air will be sure to bring them round,
sir, to say nothing o’ the hills; they’re a grand sicht, as yell
acknowledge yersel’, Mr. Hamilton, when ye see. them.”

“But Iam not to be of the party, Betty, ’m sorry to say,”
replied Mr. Hamilton. “ Business obliges me to remain, though
I may be able to join you by railway afterwards, when I hope to
see your grand mountains for the first time.”

Nurse’s fresh surprise was thus disposed of, without further
exclamations, and nothing remained to be done but to set about
making ready for the journey. All was at once hurry and
preparation. Betty, when put to it, was a capital manager ; and,
when the day came for their setting out to embark, no one was
more proud than she to display her readiness. She seemed as
delighted as Frank was himself; and did her very best in sooth-

ing and keeping up the spirits of Cicely. Mr. Simcox’s children
had a governess with them, so as to save Mr. Hamilton that care ;
while everything else could be counted on, from his friend’s side,
to make up for any slight oversight on his part, and to set his
mind at ease about them.















THE WATER FAIRY SETS OUT.
(Szr FRONTISPIECE. )
f B SIMCOX’S yacht was lying on the Thames, opposite
3 Exith, along with several others which had joined in a
Yess match from the river’s mouth. All was liveliness in
the pretty Kent village, at the beginning of summer, and all
was gaiety outside upon the water, as the yachts unfurled their
sails and hoisted their flags, to move away in succession to a
regatta down the Thames. The Water Fairy was ready also, as
if about to joim them, and no time was lost in getting on board
by wherries, which took off both parties, causing little Cicely
some degree of flutter, until she was safe on the deck. Here it
seemed quite safe in comparison ; all was so trim, and nice, and
comfortable looking, especially below in the well-furnished cabin,
with its neat sleeping closets at the side, and the pretty little
rooms at the stern, which the girls were to have. By that time
Cicely’s fears were over; she did not even shiver when she felt
that the vessel was moving—indeed the river was so smooth, and
the breeze so light, that they hardly knew it till they were well
on their way. Most of them came on deck soon, quite enjoying
the clever way in which the vessel passed through a throng of
others, avoiding noisy steamers, crowded with people, that rushed
along in every direction. Then there was a kind of race with
some of the other yachts, which took them swiftly down the
opening reaches of the river, when the Water Fairy parted

















18 The Children’s Voyage.



company from the rest near Gravesend, and began to hold her
way alone towards the broad, green, dancing waters, that already
showed signs of the open sea.

Gravesend was visible on the shore, with its shipping, and
smoke, and the windows of the brown old houses sparkling
through, backed by rich green woods, that seemed new to the
children, as if they had been along time away from land. By
that time it was past noon, and, the tide being unfavourable for
a while, the yacht went in towards the harbour, and anchored..
Everbody was hunery after such a busy time, except two of Mr.
Simcox’s children, who were still too unwell to care much for
food. The nice luncheon was much enjoyed by the rest, and the
little Hamiltons made better acquaintance with Georgie Simcox,
who was a spirited boy, fond of everything belonging to the sea,
and dressed like a young sailor. He had not got rid of his cough
yet; but his appetite was better eee and he said he should
soon get well at sea.

“We never saw the sea before,” said Frank, looking still
rather anxiously at the rippling surface, towards both shores of
the river, while his sister crept shyly to his side.

“Oh, no,” she whispered ; “and it does look so wide! Shall -
we be long upon it, do you think ?”

“Why, you don’t for a moment suppose we are at sea yet !”
broke out Georgie, a little loftily. “When you get.there you
will soon know the difference. I just hope none of us may be
pretty sick—though’the doctor says it would do us good.”

“Do you know about ships ?” asked Frank.

“Oh, don’t I?—I’m going to be a sailor myself,” was the
answer, “ My father has several ships of his own, besides smaller















Lhe Water Fatry Sets Out. 19



craft. I can row a boat if I get anyone to help me. There’s one
going to be sent ashore just now to the wharf. Suppose we get
leave to go 2”

Frank felt inclined to try, but Cicely pulled him by the
sleeve, and he drew back from the proposal. Georgie Simcox
persevered in asking his father’s leave to go, and, though at first
forbidden, was at last allowed. “Well, my boy, if you promise
not to buy too many sweetmeats you may go with the men,”
said Mr. Simcox.

The boat went off with him, and, meanwhile, the children
were occupied enough in looking at the stir of the various boats,
vessels, and steamers, of all kinds and sizes, that went up or
down. It was so warm and fine, yet airy, that the two little,
invalid girls were now brought up by their governess, Miss Dalby,
and sat enjoying the scene from the deck.

“Look,” said Mr. Simcox, pointing out towards the middle
of the river, “there is an ocean steamer, coming in from Holland ;
and that, yonder, is an American vessel, being tugeed up.”

“How interesting,” said Miss Dalby, who was delighted to
instruct her pupils in every way, and still more, at present, to
enliven the little girls. “ But how is it possible that you can tell
so far off, Mr. Simcox 2”



“ By the flags,” he replied, showing them how to know the
bright stars and stripes from the three-coloured Dutch ensign.

“That flag, at any rate,” said the governess, pointing towards
a large, beautiful ship, which lay at anchor opposite the yacht,
& hel . + o ‘ Ly 2”

belongs to our own country, surely ?

“Yes,” said Mr. Simcox; “it is an emigrant ship, bound for

Australia. She is evidently waiting to drop down, and will, no













20 The Children’s Voyage.



doubt, go out to sea along with us.” He took out a pocket-
telescope, and by its help ran his eye along the sides of the ship,
after which he handed the glass to Miss Dalby, requesting her to
look through it.

“Dear me!” she exclaimed, “what numbers of people—all
leaving home to emigrate—how strange that they dare go so vast
a distance !”

The children, in succession, looked through the glass, not a
little to their amusement, and in many ways to their wonder.
Nurse Betty at length was favoured with a peep, which she had
been most desirous to obtain, on account of having a cousin settled
in Australia. “Oh, peety me,” she cried, “I see wee bairnies
totting about. Are they going to take such wee creatures across
that great big sea? Where will they get milk for their por-
ridge ?” :

At that moment a deep moo—o—oo came sounding over the
water, followed by a bleating of sheep, and a crowing of cocks,
which made Betty start. “I do declare it’s a perfect Noah’s
Ark ; they’ve gotten a cow in the ship, and sheep. Oh, I see,
they'll be milk ewes. I mind my grand-mother used to make
ewe’s-milk cheeses langsyne.” .

The children laughed heartily at the idea of sheep giving
milk, and it was not until Mr. Simcox said Betty was right, that
they would believe it. “Maybe you'll not believe a euddy can
give milk either—what ye ca’ a donkey,” said Betty ; “but for
all that it’s quite true. Our old euddy, Jess, gave a good drop
at times.”

Betty had numbers of stories about this same donkey to



relate—indeed they were her very best; so Cicely and Frank









The Water Fairy Sets Out. 21.



thought it was wiser not to laugh any more about the milk ewes,
lest she should take offence, and tell them no more. “I should
like to go to Australia,” said Frank. “What a nice long
voyage, and what a lot of strange things there would be to see
there.”

“Oh, laddie, dinna tak such a notion into your head,” said
Betty.” “I remember so well when my cousin went away; he
thought it was grand; but, let me tell you, there were sore hearts
left behind that day he sailed, and his own was troubled, weel I
wat.”

Boats had been passing to and from the vessel, and one now
came a little nearer to where the yacht was lying. There were



sad faces enough in it, and even the sound of crying could be
heard from the yacht’s deck. One old woman, in particular,
seemed to be weeping very much, while a younger one was trying
to get her to look back at the. great ship, where, towards the end
of the vessel, a young man could be seen, by the help of the glass,
waving a bright-coloured handkerchief.

“Why do they go away when it makes people so sorry ?” said
Cicely, feeling very much inclined to cry herself.

“To make their fortune,” said Frank. “Why, don’t you
know, there are heaps of gold to be picked up in Australia ?”

“But not without a great deal of hard work, Master Frank,”
said Mr. Simcox. “ Fortunes are not so easily made, even in a
gold country ; and when made, they are twice as hard to keep.”

“That’s true, sir,” said Brigos, the boatswain, with a shake of
the head, as he held up little Flora in his arms to see the ship.
“T know summat of that, 1 do, seeing as how I made my pile
twice and lost it.”











is
bo

The Children’s Voyage.



“ Were you robbed of it, Briggs ?” inquired Mr. Simcox.

“No, sir,” was the reply; “I lost it in a more foolish way ;
for you must know, sir, that seamen are not very careful of their
hard-earned wages, and when they get ashore make the money
fly like dust. Besides, there are always bad people on the look-
out to entrap simple sailors—and it was among some of that sort
I lost my pile. Gambling was the fashion in that part at that
time, and little was done for the comfort of sailors ashore, as is
the case now.”

“Were you ever in Australia, Mr. Briggs ?” said Frank.

“Yes, sir, three times or thereabouts ; but it wasn’t at the
gold fields of Australia I made my pile, but in the mines of
California.”

“Oh, do tell us about that,” said Frank, who could not let a
story slip past him.

“No time for that now, master,” replied Briggs. “ There is
the boat returning, and we'll have to take her in.” And the
boatswain went away to see after it.

“Tt does seem strange,” said Miss Dalby, “that people should
go so far away from their native country in search of fortune,
or even of work, when there seems to be so much to do for every-
body at home.”

“ But, Miss Dalby,” said Cicely, “I thought everybody went
out in search of fortune. In my fairy tale book, even the kings
sent their sons out, for most of the stories begin—‘ Once upon a
time, a certain king had three sons, and he sent them out into
the world to seek their fortune.”

“ Ah, Miss Dalby, see what a work-a-day world this is,” said
Mr. Simcox, smiling ; “even. the fairy tale books do something







The Water Fairy Sets Out. 23



for them. It was a very sensible thing of the fairy kings to
send their sons out into the world.”

“Oh, they are not fairy kings, sir!” said Cicely ; “ they were
just plain kines; but the fairies came and took care of the
princes if they were good, and if they were industrious they
gave them something to help them.”

“ Ah, we must hear more of these wise monarchs, sometime,”
said Mr. Simcox. “I hope a kind fairy will help the good ship,
there, over the waste of waters, and that it will reach its desti-
nation in safety.”

The boat having now come alongside, Georgie came up on
deck, but it was easily seen he was not so brisk and active as he
had been in the morning; indeed, when Betty civilly asked him if
there was anything the matter with him, that he was looking so
pale and tired, he was almost cross, and twisted his shoulder out
of her hand, in quite a rude manner. Fortunately his papa had
gone to the other end of the vessel to speak to Grogan, the
master, or skipper; and, Miss Dalby having reproved him, no
further notice was taken of it.

Late in the afternoon, the tide and wind being ae favour-
able, it was seen that preparations were being made in the
emigrant ship to leave the roadstead and set sail. The canvas
was loosed from her lofty yards by some of the crew, while, from
her fore-deck, there came the click and rattle of the windlass, as
the anchor was being heaved up, with a “yo—he—oh !” that
broke off at intervals into a kind of wild song, and then was
renewed in boisterous chorus. By and by it ceased all at once,
then one or two sails were spread high in front, and the ship
began to move, turning gracefully towards the mid-current.





































24 The Children’s Voyage.



Already the yacht was taking the same course, with her anchor
tripped, and, being further down, at first bade fair to leave the
emigrant vessel: behind.

“We'll beat her, you'll see,” said Georgie, entering into that
view of the matter with great glee.

“Oh, such a beautiful sight, Frank!” said Cicely, eagerly,
drawing her brother and the children to the stern to watch as
the ship opened all her white wings, and caught the full breeze
from behind them. .

“Oh dear, dear,” said Flora Simcox, who was the elder of
the two other girls, “ what if that great monster were to come



upon us!” And she gave rather an affected little scream. Her
younger sister, Loo, who had a favourite doll in her arms, and
was a chubby little thing in spite of her late illness, with more
good sense, as Cicely thought, than her sister, said, as she looked
at her father, near the helm, “Such stuff, now, Flo; as if papa
would let it—’sides, don’t you see, there’s Alick driving our
ship !”

Loo knew this Alick, as she called him, who, it seemed, was
the best sailor on board, though he sometimes used to drive the
carriage at home. As to the Water Fairy itself, she never
would be persuaded that it was not really alive, and that it was
not driven like the horses. The emigrant ship came on, in-
creasing in speed, and gaining more and more upon them by the
wide spread of her sails, till they could read the name that was
displayed under her bowsprit, in large letters—The Wanderer.

’ Gradually she came opposite the yacht, then passed, and at
length left them behind, among other vessels that dotted the
surface of the Thames, now a broad arm of the sea. So long as







“Serie tears
Lee eee
BWP ry









, OUTWARD BOUND—THE THAMES, OFF GRAVESEND.



oA














The Water Fairy Sets Out. 27



vessels and boats were near, the boys were never weary of ad-
miring the variety of their rig, or the trim of their sails, and the
girls had almost forgotten their ailments in similar ways. Above
all, the outward-bound ship had kept up their interest, even
between meal times. At last, however, it had withdrawn into
the form of a tower of canvas, gradually fading into a cloud.
Other vessels were far apart, and the nearest shores were indis-
tinct, bristling here and there with the masts of shipping lying
in harbour, like gigantic sedges, with the smoke of the towns
rising beyond. The heave of the water was getting to be more
and more felt, the air came keen from seaward, and the long
light of the summer evening was drawing near an end. By this
time, all were more than ready for bed, so the deck was left to
the crew, and the children were soon unconscious of the yacht’s
progress out to sea, past Sheerness, where the men-of-war lie
thick in the mouth of the Medway, past the famous Light at the
Nore, and at last out of sight of land, and into the open sea.











AT SEA—TREASURES OF THE DEEP.

FITHOUT exception, the children had been sea-sick,
more or less, during the night, although the breeze had
“| never exceeded an ordinary one, nor were the waters
of the open Channel at all rough. Strange to say, however, by
far the worst sufferer was Georgie Simcox, who, whether from
greater lability to the complaint, or from the effect of his stroll
on shore, was still unable to get up out of his berth, or to eat
any breakfast. Frank had been the next in feeling the motion
of the sea; as to the little girls, they soon got over it. Cicely
declared she had not been ill for more than an hour or two,
while Flora and Loo Simcox seemed all the better for it in the



morning. They were quite hungry for breakfast, indeed every-
body, even George, was quite well and hearty by that time. .

What a bright, glorious morning it was, to be sure, and what
a delightful day followed. The gentle breeze was balmy with
the warm breath of the west wind that blew from the land,
over a sea that was merrily sparkling with sunlight. On the
right hand it spread away, bounded only by the sky, where,
Miss Dalby said, the German Ocean extended; and on the left
was the long low line of deeper blue, with here and there a
greenish patch coming out in the light, which was all that now
stood for the land.











Lveasures of the Deep. 29



“That is the coast of East Suffolk, my dears,” said the
governess, after questioning the master of the yacht; “and on
the other side yonder, where no land is to be seen, the nearest
shores are those of Holland and Prussia.” Miss Dalby had
travelled much, and was disappointed that this information
did not quite set the little ones at ease about losing sight of the
firm ground they had been used to.

“At any rate, that’s good old England,” said Mr. Simcox,
heartily ; “and we shal! soon soon see more of it, never fear!”

“If this breeze holds, sir,” remarked Grogan, the worthy
skipper, as he was oftenest called, “we shall do pretty well; we
shall get abreast of Norfolk ere sundown, and have a sight
towards Yarmouth for the young folks. I warrant me they'll
feel lively enough among the fishing craft !”

“We can have some fishing ourselves, though,” said Georgie,
as he came up on deck, having recovered his spirits greatly ;
“its stupid always sailing, unless you fish, or shoot, or do
something.”

Frank knew nothing about fishing, or anything of the kind,
and was rather ashamed of it at first; especially as Georgie was
very generous about lending him lines and hooks, and did his
best to teach him. There was also a gentleman on board with
Mr. Simcox, a friend of his, named Mr. Thompson, who never
was contented without either fishing, or shooting at the sea-
birds, or else, when nothing of that kind could be done, smoking
cigars. Frank soon left off trying, all the more readily because
Mr. Thompson got cross at not catching anything, and, for his
own part, he preferred rather to go with the girls, although



Georgie laughed at that.











30 The Children’s Voyage.



“T wonder anybody can be tired at sea,” said Cicely to him ;
“do come here; if you look down into the water, you can see
such bells and bubbles coming up in the froth; and just see
there how it splashes up in front and makes little rainbows with
the drops!”

“Yonder are people along the sky!” called little Loo, pointing
past the sails in front to the horizon, where several distant
vessels were every now and then appearing and shifting, with
the various colours of the air upon them, “such funny ones—
somebody leaning over and carrying a pail.”

“Tt’s a ship with a side-sail out,” said Frank, running for Mr.
Simcox’s telescope to prove his words; but Cicely and Loo
would have it that the odd-looking figures were what they said.
“There’s an old woman in a grey cloak—and that other's an
Arab chief. Then there’s a pedlar with a pack going into the
clouds !”

The spy-glass showed new wonders, however. Then Alick,
the sailor, drew up sea water in a bucket, and caught little
floating pieces of sea-weed for them, with living creatures about
some, which Miss Dalby took great interest in. She had a
microscope with her, and brought it to let them see how
extraordinary such small creatures were. A little ball, like a
piece of jelly, was put with some of the water into a tumbler,
and in a minute it sent out all round it a number of rays like the
petals of a China aster; looking so like a lovely flower, that even
Flora Simcox was curious about it, while old Betty put on her
spectacles to get a look; and Alick, much to his astonishment,
saw it too. A little speck-like insect was put in after, and
immediately the seeming flower seized hold of it and evidently













Treasures of the Deep. 31



devoured it. “Siccan marvels the deep does contain, to be
sure!” exclaimed Betty, holding up her hands while she gazed.
“Tl ne’er say again but what it’s full o wonders and mercies,
though still ’'m wae to think o how yon poor folk in the
emigrant ship will be getting on.”

« Anyhow, there’s no want o’ life afloat here,” said Alick, who
turned out to be a countryman of Betty’s own ; “there’s plenty 0”
fish, though they won’t rise to the gentlemen’s bait ; there’s the
mackerel-midge already—and that’s a sign the mackerel been’t
far off.” He showed them, as the small waves surged right out
of the green shadow of the sails, that the ripple was more and
more alive with the little fishes he spoke of, almost too minute
to be distinguished, but glittering like silver. The great gulls and
small terns and sea swallows were pouncing aslant at them in
the breeze ; now and then, also, a sharp-nosed gar-fish or sea-pike
shot out in chase of the small fry, with a beak like a bird. This
was what the fishermen called the mackerel-guide, and all
Yarmouth and Lowestoft would be after them in a very short
time. “Pity it’s not herring-harvest time,” added Alick, “ for
then you'd see a stir—the brine all of a blaze with them, and
the nets dragging up gold into the boats! Yarmouth’s all built
by the herrings, one may say, except what the mackerel does,
and the cod. But the herrings don’t come in till the year’s end,
and then we'd be in danger of a gale or two.”

Of this danger, there was no fear to our party, it seemed, as
the strong breezes of the season were past. “ To tell the truth,
though, sir,” said the skipper, touching his hat to Mr. Simcox,
as he walked up to him near the helm that afternoon, “I don't
like the weather. No, its not anything in the shape of a breeze









32 The Children’s Voyage.



I'm afraid of,” explained he, seeing Mr. Simcox look a little
anxious,

Mr. Simcox was a stout, plump, good-humoured little man,
dressing like a smart sailor himself, when in the yacht; but he
did not understand very much about navigation, for which he
trusted chiefly to old Mr. Grogan, the skipper. As for Mr.
Thompson, he professed to be rather more of a seaman than his
friend, and now said, “ Well then, bless me, Grogan, what is it
youre afraid of ; nothing wrong below, I hope?” and he looked
even more anxious than Mr. Simcox.

“Tt’s a calm,” answered the skipper, rather pointedly, “that’s
what it is, sir, and no trifle either.” He clearly thought that
this was a thing which Mr. Thompson would have special
difficulty in getting over; and in this he was right, for before
night came, all that gentleman’s patience was exhausted by the
total loss of the wind that had been blowing. When the sun
went down, the Water Fairy was lying like a log upon the
smooth water, only heaving and dropping on the slight swell,
while every rope and block creaked, the useless rudder jerked,
and the sails flapped so that they had to be drawn together.

Before daybreak, Cicely, who had slept but lightly, from the
ceaseless motion of the vessel, got up to look out of the little.
stern window in the girl’s berth. The moon had been shining, ~
but now went down, and the surface of the water appeared to
be shimmering here and there like phosphorus, owing to some
stir along the water. As she watched, she could see that there
were fishing boats out, not far. away, and that the glimmering
was caused by the nets which they were dragging in wide trails
after them. The dawn had now begun in a long streak, away



















Treasures of the Deep. 39



over the open ocean, until, on the side towards the land, it struck
on quite a fleet of these fishing boats, and Cicely could hear
faintly the cries of the fishermen at work. She lost no time in
dressing herself, and ran to call Frank, who slept in the same
place with Georgie. Frank sprang up at once, dressed hurriedly,
and hastened after her to the deck ; but Georgie was far too
lazy to think of joining them. By that time it was full morning,
and never before had they enjoyed suchasight. In some of the
nearest boats they could see the splendid colours of the mackerel,
which were being hauled up in streams, flashing to the sunrise and
dazzling their eyes until they could hardly look at them. At
last, when the fishermen in the two nearest boats seemed unable
to take in more, they evidently thought of offering some for sale
to the people in the yacht. The two boats began to move their
long oars in that direction, trying who would be first. One was
a good deal smaller than the other, and it easily gained the race,
with the help of a red sail which the crew put up. Fine fresh
mackerel were bought for breakfast, and the fishermen made the
‘best of their way homeward, there being a very slight breeze _
in that direction. The Water Fairy, however, had not even a
breath of air in her favour, and was still forced to rock idly

upon the sea.







THE SKIPPERS STORY.

SAN FICELY and Frank were sitting together watching the
mackerel boats rowing back, when Mr. Grogan came

S | up from his own little sleeping berth beside the
steward’s pantry. “Good morning, miss; good morning, master,”

he said, gazing round upon the sky and sea; “any appearance of
the breeze? Come, sir, help us to bring the wind, Master Frank,
whistle away with all your might!”

“What good will my whistling do, Mr Grogan,” said Frank.

“ A oreat deal, master,” replied the skipper, laughing. “ Why,
don’t you know that there is a saying among sailors that if you
whistle the wind comes soon after.”

“But it is not true, surely,” said Cicely.

“Well, all I can say about it is this, that once when I was
aboard a large merchant ship, one of the crew would keep on.
whistling, though against the orders of the captain himself, and
in the end we were lost.”

“Do you mean wrecked, Mr. Grogan?” cried Frank. “Oh
-do tell us about it, please.”

“Well you see, sir, we were returning from a trip to New
Brunswick ; that was when I was quite a youngster, and I was
beginning to think I had quite enough of the sea, and had fairly
made up my mind to stay ashore for the rest of my days, but





The Skippers Story. - 87



things were ordered differently. We had a pretty good passage
out, and all of us had been in good spirits, and hearty ; but it
was very different on our return. We had taken aboard two
new hands before sailing again, born in? New Brunswick they
were, and from the very first moment they put their feet upon
the deck, everything seemed changed. Even when it was stamp-
and-go at the tripping of the anchor, they did their share of the



‘duty as if they had no right to be asked to do such work, and

when we were all shouting out, as well as the strain on the
capstan would let us,

‘Hurrah boys, we're howoward bound,

hurrah, hurrah !’

one of them shouted out ‘Hurrah boys, we're not homeward
bound,’ and somehow our pipe was put out, and more than one
set his teeth and scowled at the ‘blue-nosed Yankees,’ as Nova-
Scotians are called. It’s most astonishing what mischief these
same two surly-tempered lubbers made in a ship, and how they
managed to separate good friends from each other.

“On the Saturday afternoons we had all along been cheerful,
making it a point to drink sweethearts and wives in good style;
and as we had a good number of pretty fairish singers aboard,
we used to have what the Americans call a good time. There
was old Mathews, the best topman aboard, good humoured when
sober, but apt to be rather surly over his grog, so that, knowing
his failing, all respected it or stood aloof from playing any joke
on him of a disagreeable kind. Then there was Walter, another
A. B. who was a good sailor, but who had been rather delicate
all the cruise. We called him the Parson, for he was always
reading his Bible at odd times; but though we laughed at him,







38 The Children’s Voyage.



no one thought of making him out a hypocrite, for it was well
known he had been on the coast of Africa when all the crew
had died of fever, and he was the only one who had escaped
along with the mate. Such a thing was quite enough to sober a
man for a time, and hardened though some of our messmates
were, they contented themselves by calling him Parson; or if
they went any further, it would mayhap be to drone out a hymn
through their nose, as Methodies are supposed to do. But let
me say here, miss and master, that though some folks laugh at
these same Methody people, they do a great deal of good, and
there are among them many honest and upright men, likewise
women, and what's more, youngsters it’s to be hoped. If there
was any one that laughed and made sport of Walter more than
another, it was Mathews; and of a Saturday night he never
failed to have a good deal of fun at the Pargon’s expense. But
at the same time, he allowed no one to make fun except himself.
That was the thing that struck me, even when a youngster, as
being most curious. Well, some time after we left on the home-
ward voyage, Mathews was a little worse than ordinary over his
grog. He had had more than his usual share, for the two blue-
nosed Yankees had handed theirs over to him, being anxious,
as was evident, to secure his good-will. On the Saturday before
that, poor Walter had not been so well, and indeed had been
often confined to his berth ever since we set sail, but now he
was able to be about again, and on this particular Saturday
afternoon he took his place among his messmates.

“*Come along, Parson, tip us a stave,’ sung out Mathews,
from his seat on the biscuit barrel. ‘Give us that old hymn
you hum over, even in your dreams.’











The Skipper’s s tory. 39



“This speech was received by a burst of laughter by most,
more especially by the blue-noses, who haw-hawed like donkies
out on the spree. Being a little worse than ordinary, Mathews
was not content with the laugh as at other times, but insisted
upon having the hymn sung there and then. I think I see
Walter's face now, as he stood up, waving off one of the Nova-
Scotians with his left hand in a grand way as if he was a
worriting fly, and stretching out the other to Mathews, with a
“We've always been good comrades, old boy, and I’d like to
oblige you; and if you're set upon having the hymn, why, PI
give it ye right off, but I claims a fair hearing.’

“*Tn course, says Mathews; ‘silence then, fore and aft, for



the Parson’s hymn, and let me tell you, lads, if one interrupts,
I'll leave my mark on him, that’s all.’

“Walter, he clears his throat, and in his first-rate voice, that
thrilled through you like the whistle from a bo’sen’s pipe of a
morning, he began to sing a hymn, the chorus of which was—

‘I’m bound for the land of Canaan—
Will you go+—will you go?

“There was something about trouble ceasing then, and
friends meeting there, and nothing but happiness in the whole
land. Mathews, with a most solemn face, led off the chorus
himself, waving his hand to one and then another, as if he had
all the invitation to himself. But at the last verse, Walter
made a pause, then changed to a lower key to sing of Him who
would welcome us at the door, and there was the strange look in
his face I had seen before, and even Mathews seemed to be
sobered for the moment. Instead of joining in the chorus, he
held up his hand with a ‘hush mates all,’ but the blue-nosed











40 The Children's Voyage.





Yankees, who had been treating the whole affair as a capital
joke, they burst out with a laugh, and had got the length of
‘T’m bound for,’ when Mathews sprang at one of them, and with
an awful oath, fairly felled him to the ground. ‘You'll know
again that Mathews keeps his word,’ he said. ‘Didn't I say Pd
leave my mark on ye?’

“The other Yankee was about to take his chum’s part, and
got the length of asking Mathews what right he had to keep
order. But Mathews just laughed outright at this; and, says
he, ‘Might, they say, is right, my bo’; and, what’s more, I’m
captain here!’ and he brought his great fist down with a slap
on his sea chest that made the teeth of the bluc-noses rattle in
their sockets.

“ After that, Mathews treated the blue-noses as if they had
been some sort of wild beasts, and not men at all, and so they
vented their spite upon Walter, whenever they durst. We had
been making a pretty good course, and were looking forward
to a good and quick passage, when all of a sudden the weather
changed, and everything went dead against us. For a week we
lay helpless in a calm, and though we all tried to make the best
of our condition, and kept ourselves cheery, it was not for long.
We had been having a laugh over some yarns. Mathews. had
been telling about a calm he had been in, and how they set
themselves to whistle for the wind, and how it had brought it.
One man said he had heard of a crew who did the same, and all
the good it did was to bring on astorm. ‘Come, let us try,’
said another ; ‘I believe in the good old style of things, though
some folk call them superstitions.’ Walter was heard saying
that, for his part, he thought such beliefs were wicked, and







The Skippers Story. 41



something else that I did not catch, for at that moment one of
the Yankees whistled in Walter’s face, and cried out, ‘There!
Tl defy them you speak of, and he whistled away like mad, his
ce mrade joining him. Now it was well known that the Captain,
though the best seaman afloat, was terribly superstitious, and
when he heard the noise, he called out, ‘What lubbers among
you are whistling there? Can’t you see the wind is coming fast
enough without your bringing down a hurricane upon us? But
the Yankees either did not hear, or did it for a brag, I cannot
say which ;. at anyrate, they went on whistling like mad.

“Down came the wind upon us sure enough, and such
a hurricane too; I never saw one to equal it before or since.
We laboured hard to hold our own, and for a time we were pretty
successful. When night came it got worse and worse, and we
were driven helplessly before it with our main and mizen masts
gone, and the fore-to’-gallant mast snapped below the cross-
trees. Most of us had succeeded in getting ourselves lashed to
the rigging, but in the early morning a great sea swept over us,
which took Walter clean overboard. The next moment I saw
Mathews spring over after him, but Walter had sunk before
Mathews could clutch at him. He was dragged back again by
the rope that he had fastened round his waist, but in such a
condition, that at first it was thought he was dead. Nothing
eould be done to restore him, so terrible was the fierceness of the
gale; but in a few hours it lessened, and we were able to cut
ourselves free from our lashings, and to look about us. Two
men anda boy were found to be missing, one of them being a -
Yankee, but Mathews was still alive, though evidently in a
dangerous state.









e

* 49 The Children’s Voyage.





The ship was found to be in such a leaky condition, that it
was considered best to abandon her at once, and put off in the
only boat left us, the Captain thinking that, as we were now in
the regular course of vessels, the chances were we should be picked
up ere long. Mathews was lifted in to the bows, where I was
Set to look after him, but after a short time it was plain his

hours were numbered. ‘Better to have left him in the ship,’
said the other blue-nose, but the Captain heard him, and made
him keep quiet for the remainder of our voyage. Poor Mathews,
he died that afternoon. I was holding a dipper of water to his
lips, when he opened his eyes, and catching sight of the sun
setting in the horizon, he looked hard at the purple and gold and
blue, and said, quite.plain and distinct, ‘I’m bound for the land
of Canaan,—will you go ?”

“And so ends my yarn, young master and miss, , and you'll
see 1t 18 sometimes wiser to bear patiently the condition we are
in, than wish for things we do not know about, troubling the
mighty Maker of all, who rules over the winds and the waves,”









ay
i

Sia

ie



HIP.

NED S$

°
a

7

E ABA?

TH
















while it lasted, as it did for many hours. The heat

during the day was excessive, so an awning had to be

spread over the quarter deck, which made it pleasanter for those
who could not go up in the rigging, with Mr. Thompson and Mr.
Simcox, with the spy-glasses, to look out for Yarmouth. This
Georgie and Frank were allowed to do, with proper care; and,
as the flood-tide came to float the yacht along for a time, they
at last called down that they saw the sands towards the harbour,
between the light ships, with the white froth of the shoals. Then
a little afterwards, the top of the great spire of St. Nicholas
‘Church and the tall Nelson Column were descried by those
above. Those on the deck, however, could see nothing of all
this, and had to depend on the boys for the information and
description. Yet even from the deck many objects of interest
were visible. There were innumerable vessels of all kinds to
watch, besides several steamers that passed out or in. But the
greatest resource of all was in Mr. Grogan, the good-humoured
skipper of the Water Foury, who considered it his duty to make
up to “the ladies,” as he called them, by all means in his power.
“ Anyhow,” remarked he, “we ain’t bound to time, like a
passenger-smack, and the longer at sea, d’ye see, the better for

health, marm !”







46 The Children’s Voyage.



“Tf only there could be anything seen of the coast,” said
Miss Dalby ; “anything historical, or instructive in any way.”

Flora gave a little toss of her head, as if this did not vex
her. As for old Betty, she cheered them with the promise that
when “the good honest shores of Scotland came in sight, it
would be another story altogether; for there was no want 0’
ken-speckle points to be seen there.”

“Tm a Norfolk man myself, ladies,” said the skipper here,
for the credit of his country, and waved round his broad horny
hand; “there’s been more battles fought here away, on the
water, than you'd suppose. For that matter, just look yonder,
over the north point of the compass at this moment, why, that’s
about the very spot where Admiral Lord Nelson his self was
born and bred! Moreover, I used to hear say that the famous
Robinson Crusoe was well nigh wrecked in a boat, passing the
light-house at Winterton there.”

“Oh dear,” Flora cried, with a little gigeling laugh, “there
never was such a person!” and she looked to her governess for
approval, adding, “It’s all made-up adventures, and I hate these,
for they’re not true.”

“My certy, there you're wrong, lassie, as I can testify,” said
Betty ; “fox he belonged to Fife, where I come from myself, and
his people are there to this day, though their name be Selkirk.”

The good skipper’s face fairly beamed at this proof of his
correctness, while Alick, the Scotch sailor, and his comrades
seemed to catch the words with great satisfaction, But still
more to the delight of all was the gentle return of the breeze,
which began with the change of the tide. It soon put the yacht
in motion again, so as to let the rudder act, and the sails be







Making the Best of a Calm. 47



spread and trimmed, until by evening there was quite enough
of it to be pleasant.. During the night they made rapid progress,
and bent over and ploughed along in rather too lively a way to
be comfortable for everyone. But there seemed no fear of the
calm being followed, as the proverb goes, by a storm. In the
morning they found that they had rounded the coast nicely to-
wards the mouth of the Wash, and were standing direct for the
mouth of the Humber, where Mr. Simcox intended to put in at
the harbour of Grimsby.

“T think, sir,” said Mr. Grogan, as he came along towards
the stern, that day; “I think I would make another tack, if you
please, to fetch more westerly, a little!”

“Very well, Mr. Grogan,” replied Mr. Simcox, trusting as
usual to the skipper, though liking to be consulted. “ Yes, I
think I would.”

“Ready, "bout-ship!” called out Mr. Grogan, in his hoarse
voice, which was like a bull beginning to bellow; “ round with
the cutter again, my lads!” There had been several of these
tackings already, with the sails slanted so as to make the Water
Foiry go almost against the wind, and now it was blowing rather
strongly. Frank had learned to keep out of the way of the men,
while at work, and even Georgie had got a lesson, by having
his leg nearly caught in a running rope; but Mr. Thompson con-
sidered himself above taking such hints, inclining to be rather
crusty if cautioned about it. Just as the great boom of the
yacht’s main-sail was being quickly shifted from one side to the
other, above the quarter-deck, to suit the change of tack—
what is called “ jibbing”—Mr. Thompson, careless of what went
on, happened to jump up on the stern gratings, to look at a large







48 The Children’s Voyage.



vessel that was making for harbour along with them. “Have a
care, sir,” shouted the skipper loudly; “look out, or you'll be
knocked overboard !”

Mr. Thompson turned indignantly round, and at that very
moment the heavy beam went jerking across, leaving him bare-
headed. “Stop the yacht,” cried he, angrily—-“‘ my hat’s gone
—you've knocked off my hat with your awkwardness!”

“ Thank goodness it wasn’t your head, sir,” said Mr. Grogan;
“it was a near touch; not the men’s fault either; just as well
you're no taller !”

It was no use complaining, the hat was already far behind,
and soon sank out of sight. The truth was, Mr. Thompson was
too tall to put himself in the way safely, and showed greater
prudence by putting on a cap, and being a little more careful
afterwards. Everybody else was looking at an inward-bound
ship, as it waited for a pilot lugger that had come out to meet it
at the signals given. The ship was a whaler, from the Polar
regions, as the skipper knew at once from its appearance. He
pointed to a small object hanging aloft from a rope, between two
of its masts, which, he said, after looking through the spy-glass,
was the May-day garland that the Hull whalers were accustomed
to hoist up, wherever they were, on the first of the month, and
carry it home there. It was all made of true lover's knots of
bright ribbon, and there was a little ship in the middle of the
ring.

“T remember once going into Hull, after a whaling cruise,”
said the boatswain, who had been the first to point out the
garland ; “and no sooner did we reach the dock than, as had

been the custom for years, the boys of the town, seamen’s sons





a
3°
ahs
ony
<
iS
a 0
z,
A
a
i |
1a
1 a
5
10
A
1a
4
7s
Ss
1 2
a
So
aq














Making the Best of a Calm. 51



and others, rushed on deck, and, while a great crowd lined the
wharves, the boys scrambled up the rigging, trying who would
be first in the race aloft, to get hold of the prize. It falls to the
smartest little chap among the lot, and it is sure to bode well for
his commanding a whaler himself.”

“We can't have better luck ourselves,” said the skipper,
“than to go into port in her wake!’ The yacht followed the
whaler accordingly, getting advantage of the pilotage besides.

“ Look at the streak she leaves behind her, ma'am,” said the
boatswain ; “one ’ud think the oil oozed astern; and, though
you mayn’t believe it, I’ve known boats to have a smooth sea in
the lea of a foundered whaler, for hours together.”

The gentlemen smiled at this, as if it were but a fable of the
sea. “ Yes, there is truth in it, I believe,” Miss Dalby said;
“experiments have proved that the old proverb is well founded,
about oil stilling the waves. Although the storm is not lessened
by it, yet ib is found by science that the waters, however
troubled, subside within the space where the oil has spread.”

“Ship, ahoy !” Mr. Grogan hailed to the whaler, at Mr.
Simcox’s desire, when they were near each other, off Grimsby
harbour, where the ship had to anchor for the tide. “ What
cheer—what cheer! A full ship, I hope ?”

“ Ay, ay,” was shouted back, gleefully, “a full hold and more,
with seal skins in plenty besides. There’s a curiosity or two
aboard, if the young folks would like to see ’em ?”

“Qh, do let us go, papa 2” cried Georgie, while Flora and
her sister danced round him, coaxing him to accept the invitation.

“ Well, I suppose, Grogan, I shall have to ask you to get out
the boat,” said Mr. Simcox, laughing. “They'll never be satis-











52 The Children's Voyage.



fied unless we let them go.” When the boat was ready, to the
children’s great delight, Mr. Simcox accompanied them himself,
Mr. Thompson preferring to remain behind, as, he said, the rank
smell of the oil was disagreeable to him. Miss Dalby, though
she did not like small boats at all, was too anxious to see the
curiosities to think of herself, and was the first to step down.
Even Betty, after some little amount of flutter, consented to go,
her fears being overcome by her anxiety to see a Polar bear, that
was said to be on board, Sure enough there it was, quite a
young one, and so tame, allowing the children to pat it and feel
its paws. There was also a young seal, a silver fox, and a pair
of Esquimaux dogs, that interested the boys, especially when
they heard that they had been bought from the Esquimaux, and
had pulled ships over the ice. After all the animals had been
duly visited, the captain now showed them the great hold full of
the blubber of the whales, aid explained to Frank and Cicely, see-
ing they were really interested in the matter, how the great whales
are cut up at sea, and the best parts preserved in the hold. He
said it was a great pity they had not time to visit the establish-
ments where they boil down the great monsters. Frank was
desirous to see the whales’ bones, and was surprised. to learn that
the whalebone, used for so many purposes, was not .the actual
substance of the bones of the whale, but is the material of a sort
of huge comb in the mouth of the animal, which assists it in
collecting its food of weeds and small fishes) The whalebone,
being of a flaky substance, is easily split, by a cutting machine,
into layers. Frank was also told that a pithy or horny stuff was
scraped off the surface of the whalebone, which is used instead of
horse-hair: that glue is made from part of the offal, and every-











Making the Best of a Calm. 53



thing that cannot be made use of in any other way is prepared
for manure.

“You see, my dears,” said Miss Dalby, “how the monsters
of the deep are made to contribute to the wants of man in many
ways. It is really refreshing to see how interested you two are
in the wonders to be seen around us.”

“ Ah, marm, there are many,” said the captain, “ who go the
world round with a pair of eyes in their head, but they make as
much use of them as a blind fiddler does. That's right, master
and miss, keep your eyes wide awake, and you'll not repent it,
I'll vouch for it.”













ON THE HUMBER.

oN their return to the yacht, all expressed themselves as
being highly delighted with their visit to the whaler,
> and Cicely went away immediately to deposit the
piece of fine seal-skin the captain had presented her with at




parting. This friendliness on the part of the whaling captain
brought some trouble to poor Cicely. No sooner was she in the
sleeping place, which she shared with Flora Simcox, than the
latter said, “I think the captain might have given me a seal-
skin, also.” é

“Oh, it’s only a small piece of one,” said Cicely ; “just
enough, he said, to make me a pretty pair of cuffs, or a muff.
It really was very kind of him to give it to me.”

“Yes, I dare say,” said Flora, who was troubled with a
covetous disposition ; “ but, seeing that the yacht is my papa’s,
I think he ought to have given it to me.”

Cicely looked at Flora with surprise, with her blue eyes
wide open: she had lived so quiet a life with Frank and Betty
that she had never come into contact with other children, and,
not being of an envious turn, she could not understand Flora’s
speech at all.

“But perhaps you did not tell him you were not our sister—
only a visitor,” said Flora, feeling. the more she looked at the
beautiful piece of fur the more anxious to have it.













On the Humber. 55



“Yes,” replied Cicely, “I did, because he asked me my name;
and when he heard it, he said he knew papa, and had once com-
manded a ship of his. I think that was the reason why he gave
me the fur; or, perhaps, because he found out that I was the
same age as a little daughter of his was when she died—indeed,
he said I was very like her.”

“Well, I think it was very mean of you to take it,” said
Flora, rising to go away ; “and I really think if papa knew he
would be very angry. My advice is, you should throw it over-
board, or, if you like to give it to me, I will hide it for you.”

Cicely was about to comply, when Miss Dalby opened the
door, and Flora passed her, whispering to Cicely—* Don’t speak
about it to her.” But the governess had not only overheard some
of the conversation, but saw by Flora’s manner she was acting in
some sly way. She managed to get out of Cicely what was the
true state of affairs, and relieved the poor little girl’s mind con-
siderably, by saying Mr. Simcox would not be at all angry with
her, but would be very much so at Flora for hinting such a
thing. Miss Dalby further considered it the wisest plan to hand
the fur over to Betty’s care, as Flora was rather afraid of the
worthy woman. “Come up on deck, now,” continued Miss
Dalby. “Mr. Simcox has decided to put into one of the har-
bours. Mr. Thompson, it seems, means to leave the yacht here,
so we may have a good view of the town.”

When they went on deck, Flora gave a quick glance round
at her governess, to see if Cicely had told; but Miss Dalby had
already determined to take no notice of her conduct, for the
present at least, saying to Cicely that there was no use dis-
turbing the pleasant harmony that now existed. Mr. Simcox











| 4
56 The Children’s Voyage.



was looking over a large map, and pointing out to Georgie and
Frank the ravages made by the sea on one side of Holderness.
“See, boys,” he said, “that is a place that used to be of a pretty 4
large extent, but now it is nearly all washed away by the sea;
and lower down there is another, which is said to have been
rescued from the sea.”

“ And see, papa,” said Georgie, “there is the name of a town
given in a place, said to be a part that is now entirely covered
by the sea. I do declare there is another one here.”

“Yes,” said Frank, “and this very small print tells us that
six or eight hundred yards out at sea, opposite the town, is the
site of the ancient church of Aldborough.”

“T wonder if it had a steeple,” said Flora. “It would be
rather dreadful if our yacht stuck upon it, and went twisting
round, as the little gilt ship does on the church near our house



in London.”

“T remember reading somewhere,” said Miss Dalby, after
everyone was done laughing at Flora’s remark, “ that the coast, |
at that part, is washed away at the rate of about four yards
yearly, and it is believed that a whole row of villages has been
destroyed during the course of past ages. The strip of land we
saw at the mouth of the Humber is supposed not to be of a solid
kind at all, but rather a low neck of gravel and sand accumulated
by the sea and the river.”

“Then, does the sea give back what it takes ?” asked Cicely.

“Yes, my dear, in many cases.it does,” said Mr. Simcox.
“ At the broadest part of the Humber, the part called Sunk
Island, is supposed to be an accumulation of sand. It is now an.
inhabited island; but it has been wholly gained from the river,












cates eeeieoe es seat geniac a eer weet enna





COMING INTO THE HUMBER—IISHERMEN ON THE LOOK-OUT.











On the Humber. - 59



by the settling of sand and mud at a particular time of the tide, |
through a long series of years. It is now several thousand acres
of dry land, and is said to be increasing considerably.”

It had been decided to put into the harbour of Goole, to suit
Mr. Thompson’s convenience. As they were sailing up the river,
Frank, who had been looking through Mr. Simcox’s spy-glass,
called out—* Oh, there’s some sailors looking at us with a glass,
too. I can see their faces quite plainly.”

“And see how the spray is dashing up against the pier,” said
Flora, who had got the glass from Frank. ‘“ What can they be
looking out for so earnestly ?”

“Perhaps they are looking at us,” said Georgie. “Tt is not
often, I dare say, that they see such a well-built yacht as the
Water Faury.”

“It is quite ridiculous to hear you talk so of the yacht,
Georgie,” replied Flora; “I am sure there are ever go many nicer
and larger ones to be seen.”

“There may be larger,” said Georgie ; “but I never saw a
better one—never, in all my life.”

““ Well, you have yet to see a great deal my boy? said his
papa; “but keep yourself cool on the subject. In the first
place, the fishermen on the pier are not paying us the slightest
attention, but are looking out for the return of the fishing boats,
which is of greater interest to them, at this moment, than all the
yachts in the world.”

“Ts this all one river?” inquired Frank, of Miss or, ; “and
where is Goole, please ?”

“Qne question at a time, Master Frank, if you please,” said
Miss Dalby, smiling pleasantly.









60 The Children’s Voyage. |

“Oh, don’t you know geography better than to ask such a
question 2” said Georgie. “ Why, isn’t the Humber formed by
the junction of the Ouse and the Trent ?”

“Tam glad you have remembered the lesson you had about
it before we left,” said Miss Dalby ; “ but, as you are so clever,



perhaps you can tell us what river Goole is on, and all about it.”

“Oh, on the Trent, to be sure,” said Georgie, stuffing his
hands into his pockets, and looking round, as if Frank and all
the girls must think him a very sharp fellow indeed.

“You certainly ought to have been sure before you made
such a rash statement,” said Mr. Sinicox, laughing. “Goole is
on the Ouse, at the point where Dutch river joins it.”

“Yes—I forgot—so it is,” said Georgie, somewhat crest-
fallen. “But,” he continued, “the place is of no consequence—
there is nothing remarkable about it—else I certainly should
have remembered.”

“There you are wrong again,” said Mr. Simcox, “if you
mean that Dutch river is not remarkable. It is a wonderful
piece of work.”

“Why do you call it a work, Mr. Simcox? I thought rivers
never were made,” said Frank. ;

“No more they are,” replied Mr. Simcox ; “ but Dutch river
is more like a canal, and is an improved outlet for the river Don.
There is a sad story connected with it, too.”

“ Oh, please tell it to us, Mr. Simcox,” cried Cicely, clinging
to his hand. But Flora, who had not forgiven her little friend
about the seal fur, said, “ No, don’t papa, I can’t bear sad stories,
and I dream about them, and waken up in the night frightened.”

“Well, I ought to have said sad and instructive,” replied











On the Humber. 61



Mr. Simcox; “and really, Miss Flora, you are getting to be very
soft now; yet, some weeks ago, you would have nothing but ghost
stories, though you saw Loo was teally afraid of them. At any
rate, to please Miss Cicely, who has certainly more sense than,
I fear, my little daughter has, I shall relate the story, and if you
like you can walk away till it is ended. Flora decided, how-
ever, to remain, though evidently in a sulky condition, and Mr.
Simcox went on with the story.—

“Well, you must know,” he began, “that in the reign of one
of the Charleses—I think it was Charles IL, if I am wrong
Miss Dalby will set me right—a Dutchman, by name Van
Muden, undertook to make a new channel for the Don. It
was a very circuitous river, and he was to make his new portion
about seven miles in length. It is a very rare thing for the
inhabitants of a district to receive, in a friendly manner, a
foreigner, more especially if it is to affect some of the old usages
of the place. Van Muden. found this out to his cost. We see
now a canal with an ebbing and flowing tide, deep shelving
banks and ample width, all combining to give the appearance of
a natural river, and we cannot help admiring the skill and in-
genuity of the man who made it. He effected all this—but, at
the expense of his peace of mind, his fortune, and in the end his
very life itself.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” said Cicely.“ Did anybody kill him 2?”

“No, not exactly,” said Mr. Simcox, “though, perhaps, it
would not have been so cruel as letting him live on as he did.
It was the opposition he met with in carrying out his able plans;
but, in spite of it, he persevered, spending all his private means
to carry them out, reclaiming thousands of acres of land by













62 The Children’s Voyage.



drainage, and adding another navigable river to the country.
In return for all this, the poor Dutchman first fell into discredit,
then into debt, and perished in gaol. Van Muden, by the terms
of the arrangement, was to receive one-third of all the land he
might reclaim ; and, as fast as there was any, he got some of his
countrymen to come and take possession of the drained land.
Hence the Dutch-looking houses, wind-mills, dykes, and embank-
ments, and the Dutch names of the inhabitants met with in the
district.”

“That must have been some consolation to him,” said Miss
Dalby, “to get his own countrymen round him. But is it
true, Mr. Simcox, that he was knighted? I have read of him as
Sir Cornelius.”

“Yes, I believe he was,” replied Mr. Simcox; “but his
title could not have been worth much to him with such a
luckless fate.”



















ROBIN HOODS BAY.

|HEN Mr. Thompson had been put ashore, Mr. Simcox
| remembered he had an old friend in the town of
] Grimsby, a Mr. Jenner, and he decided to go and pay
him avisit. He took Georgie and Frank with him, while the little
girls were left on board with Miss Dalby and Betty. In a short
time they returned, bringing Mr. Jenner and his eldest son, a
boy about fifteen, and his little daughter, who was nine years
old. No one had felt particularly sorry to part with Mr. Thomp-
_ son, who had been at no pains to amuse anyone except himself ;
even the good-natured skipper had lost his temper at sight of his
selfishness more than once, and had been heard to say that his
room was better than his company.
The moment Mr. Jenner stepped on deck, however, everyone
felt that he brought, as it were, a fresh breeze with him,





and it was quite refreshing to hear his cheery voice and hearty
laughter.

“T do believe if I let go Mr. Jenner’s line he’d not mind it a
bit,” little Loo had said, feeling uncomfortable, even yet, when
she remembered how much Mr. Thompson seemed annoyed when
she had lost one of his best fishing-lines. ‘I’m very glad Mr.
Thompson is gone, he was a cross old——”

“My dear,” interposed Miss Dalby, “it is not considered













64 The Children’s Voyage.



polite to speak against your papa’s guests. Mr. Thompson may
be a little peculiar, but your papa values his friendship.”

“T really cannot understand what papa likes him for,” said
Flora, with a toss of her head. “I do dislike disagreeable people
very much.”

“As if you were so amiable yourself,” said Georgie, who
came past at the time. “If you mean Mr. Thompson, I like him
very much indeed, but he cannot be troubled with girls.”

“You like him because he gave you that knife,” retorted
Flora; “and as for caring about girls, ’m sure I, for one, don’t
in the least mind who he likes.”

“Now, my dears, we will have no more of this,” said Miss
Dalby ; “such conversation is neither profitable nor agreeable.
Did you see any interesting buildings as you passed along,
Georgie ?” ;

“Oh, none whatever,” said Georgie, “it is a stupid-looking
place; and’as for the buildings, I never can be troubled looking
at stupid, old buildings.”

At that moment the yacht gave a lurch, startling everyone in
the cabin, but causing no little amount of merriment to the
whole party. Georgie sprang up on deck to see the yacht cast
off, and the little girls and Miss Dalby soon followed.

Mr. Simcox and Mr. Jenner were laughing heartily at the
efforts some boys in two boats were making to keep up with the
yacht, but, when her sails were all set free, away went the Water
Foary, leaving them shouting and yelling far in her wake.

Mr. Jenner was not long before he was thoroughly acquainted
with everyone on board. It was astonishing how he found out
their peculiarities ; even Betty’s did not escape him, and many a











Robin Foods Bay. 65



talk he had with the worthy woman about her much-loved native
land. And when he happened to be near Miss Dalby, even her
historical lectures were found to be really interesting, for Mr.
Jenner seemed to know all the romantic stories and legends
about the coast, and was not at all particular with the dates, and
who the kings were who reigned at the time. When passing
Scarborough he pointed out the eagle’s nest of a castle on the sea
cliff. “There’s where the Earl of Lancaster beseiged the French-
man, Gaveston, the favourite of Edward IL, who had placed him
in the castle. He stood several attacks bravely, but the pro-



visions in the town failed him and he was forced to surrender to
the Black Dog, as the Earl was called by his enemies. Gaveston,
I believe, was beheaded afterwards, wasn’t he Miss Dalby ?”

“Yes, Mr. Jenner, you are quite right,” replied the governess ;
“it was at a place called then Blacklow Hill, and the king was:
so inconsolable at the death of his favourite that he had the body
interred at a new church at Langly, and with his own hands
placed two cloth-of-gold palls upon his tomb.”

“You are right, ma’am, and this took place (listen, Betty !)
just two years before the famous battle of Bannockburn,” said
Mr. Jenner, with a laugh.

“Qh whist, sir, dinna laugh,” replied Betty. “ An’ you an
Englishman, and canna help feeling what a sad day it was for
England, no to speak o’ them that were killed at the battle 0’
Stirling in the days o’ Wallace. A body wud have expeckit the
English to have had more sense than try it again after the lesson
they got then. But your forbears were aye a covetous set, sir.”

“Well, but Betty you were hot-headed, and were as ready to
covet as we were, if it comes to that.”







66" The Children’s Voyage.



“Oh, PU no deny that much,” said Betty, “but there never
was much glory to be gained by them, for they came down upon
puir Scotland like a swarm o’ locusts; but our reivers had but a
pickle o’ lads in their bits o’ bands, but see how they fought.”

“ Ah, I see Pl never convince you,” said Mr. Jenner, laugh-
ing; “but what do you say about Flodden, Betty? We got the
better of you there.” .

“Oh whist, whist, sir,” said Betty, “dinna speak lightly o’
that day, an’ in the presence o’ the bairns there. If it was a
dark day for Scotland, weel, I wat, England didna escape a’the- -
gither free. An’ to think it was a’ to please the Pope o’ Rome.
He was nothing but a muckle spider, and the poor Scots and
English were the flies, an’ to think that, at his bidding, Scotland
lost the bravest o’ her sons. ‘The flower o’ the forest are a’
wede awa’,’ as the auld song says.”

“Still, Betty, you must own the English got the better of the
Scotch that day,” said Mr. Jenner.

“And nothing to boast of either,” said Betty, fiercely. “It
was the old story over again—three men to one, and who could
stand against such odds? Weel I wat, it wasna for want o’ hard
fighting ye gained the day, but with the Pope at your back, and
treachery, no doubt, somewhere, the victory was nothing to make
a fuss about, to my thinking.”

“Oh, none of us doubt the bravery of the Scotch,” replied
Mr. Jenner, whose policy it was to change the subject, the mo-
ment he saw it was making anyone uncomfortable. ‘We have
many legends in this quarter about them; one, in particular,
about a Scottish sea-chief, named Andrew Mercer, being taken
ptisoner and confined in Scarborough castle. . His son was furi-













Robin Hood’s Bay. 67



ous at this, and though he could not rescue his father he sailed
into the harbour and carried off several vessels.” So pleased Betty
seemed to be with this story, that Mr. Jenner, good-naturedly,
did not tell her that the ships Mercer had taken were recaptured, |
along with others, by a rich London alderman, but allowed her
to sit chuckling over her countryman’s bravery.

The next morning the children were roused early by Tom
Jenner calling out, “If any of you want to see the first of
Robin Hood’s Bay you'd better look sharp.” .

“Why, what’s to see about it?” said Georgie, turning him-
self round sleepily ; but, seeing that Frank was dressing in haste,
he could not resist the impulse to jump up too, more especially
as he heard all the girls were ready to run up on deck. It was
delightful to feel the freshness of the calm morning as the yacht
moved gently across a small bay, and all were glad that they had
mustered courage to shake off sleep, and were soon quite wide
awake. Mr. Jenner helped to drive away the vapours of the
land of Nod, as he said, by singing through Mr. Grogan’s speak-
ing trumpet, “A forester bold, a forester bold, toot-a-hoo!”

Frank was the only one who stood aloof from the merry
group ; he was trying to realise that this was Robin Hood’s Bay,
recalling to mind all the legends Betty had told him of the ad-
ventures of that grand English outlaw. Betty was very good ;
she did not confine herself to the daring deeds of her country-
men, but, as she said, she tried to rouse Master Frank by telling
him of his own English heroes ; for it was not to be expected an
English boy would care to hear about Scotchmen only. Frank
was standing gazing out upon the picturesque rocks, and a wind-
mill, and church spire, seen in the golden light of a summer





68 The Children’s Voyage.



morning. The air seemed to be balmier than ever he had felt
it before ; the sails were fully set, catching the beautiful tints of
land, and appearing to rest awhile as the yacht tacked. and stood
upright before those grey cliffs and green edges of shore above.
“You seem to be in a brown study, Master Frank,” said Mr.
Jenner, coming towards him with Mr. Simcox, who had his spy-
glass under his arm.

“T was thinking of Robin Hood,” said Frank; “is it quite
true that he was often here, Mr. Jenner 2”

“Well, if we are to believe the Yorkshire ballads,” said Mr.
Jenner, “and I don’t see why we are not, they state that when
he was tired of merry Sherwood he would turn fisherman at
times, or, when hard pressed, he fled to the fishing vessels he
kept there, and thus escaped from the grasp of the angry law.”

“But, papa,” said Tom Jenner, “I have read somewhere that
Robin Hood was not a are good sailor, and always suffered from
sea sickness.”

“So have I,” said Mr. Simcox, “but I have no doubt if a
French ship of war had borne down on the Betsy Jane, Robin
would be able to shake off his sickness.”

“Oh, there’s a real story about that, Mr. Simcox,” said
Tom, “for when the master of the little sloop was like to die
with fear, Robin Hood’s rage kindled, and he cried out—

‘Master, tie me to the mast,’ said he,

‘That at my mark I may stand fair ;
And give me my bent bow in my hand,

2)

And never a Frenchman will T spare.

“Yes,” said Mr. Jenner, “and he defeated the Frenchman
into the bargain, and when he and his merry men boarded the














Robin Hood’s Bay. 71



helpless vessel they found ‘twelve thousand pounds of money
bright.’” :

To Frank’s intense delight, Mr. Simcox ordered Mr. Grogan
to sail a little closer to the shore, and, on passing Whitby, Mr.
Jenner pointed out the ruins of Whitby Abbey, from the tower
of which Robin Hood and his tall lieutenant, Little John, after
they had been entertained by St. Hilda’s monks, gave, at the
request of their hosts, a proof of their skill with the bow.”

“Can it be true that their arrows fell nearly three miles off?”
inquired Mr. Simcox. |

“Certainly,” replied Mr. Jenner, “for there are two upright
stones placed as marks where the shafts fell.”

“Tt was so sad to think he died such a terrible death,” said
Miss Dalby ; “with all his faults, one cannot help feeling sorry
for him.”

“ Just look at Miss Cicely’s face,” said Mr. Jenner, laughing;
“she thinks him a perfect hero, I'L be bound.”

“Oh, he was so brave and generous,” said Cicely; “I wonder
if we shall see anything of the place where Robin Hood’s wicked
old aunt confined him and treacherously: oh, 1 cannot speak
of it, it is so horrid ; but wasn’t it delightful that he remembered
his bugle horn just in time.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Jenner, “it was very fortunate, and that he
had still some strength left to open the casements and ‘blow out
weak blasts three.’

Then Little John said, hearing him,

As he sat under a tree,



‘I fear my master is near dead,

He blows so wearily,’









72 The Children’s Voyage.



So faithful Little John, tightening his belt, flew to the priory,
and, after breaking locks and bolts, reached his master and saw
that he was dying.”

“And even at the last,” said Mr. Simcox, “he was gentle
under foul wrong; for when Little John wanted to burn Kirkless
Hall and the Nunnery, Robin said—

‘I never burnt fair maids in all my time,
Nor at my end shall it be ;

But give me my bent bow in my hand,

And a broad arrow I'll let flee ;

And where this arrow is taken up
There shall my grave digged be.
“Now,” said Mr. Jenner, “if Master Frank had not been so
earnest and interested we should not have heard so much about
the forester bold. But see, Mr. Grogan is doing his best to bear
us away out of sight of this classic spot, and I agree with the old

ballad about Robin Hood—

209

‘Such outlaws as he and his men,
‘Wil England never see again,’”

















IN DANGER.

s|ETER passing Robin Hood’s Bay and Whitby, the
: Water Fairy stood out to sea for a good run along
Eee] the coast. The weather was everything that could be
wished, and the children not only enjoyed the strong sea air, but
were getting to be quite strong and healthy again. Betty said
their cheeks were like roses in June; but she was somewhat
put out when Mr. Simcox replied that they were rather of a pale
China kind still. “Oh,” retorted Betty, “it’s not often, sir, that
you see children belonging to London with any colour whatever;
but wait a little till they snuff the caller air of Scotland, and I'll
warrant they'll be red enough.”



Now that Mr. Jenner, and his son and daughter were on
board, it was a much happier time for the little Hamiltons.
The Jenners were intelligent children, fond of reading, and with
sharp observing eyes in their heads ; indeed, as Mr. Grogan the
skipper said, nothing escaped them. Little Mary Jenner, too,
had such a sweet, amiable disposition, that it was easy to become
acquainted and intimate with her, and Cicely, who was always
backward with strangers, did not feel in the least shy towards
her, but, from the very first, chatted away with her, as if she
had known her all her life.











74 The Children’s Voyage.



“T really think, Betty,” said Cicely to her nurse, “that my
little sister Mary would have been just like Mary Jenner. I felt
quite as if she was my sister the first moment I saw her.”

“That's no’ to be wondered at, my dear,” said Betty. “Like
draws to like, they say, and ‘birds o’ a feather flock together.”

“But I am not at all like Mary Jenner, Betty,” said Cicely.
“She has such pretty blue eyes, and lovely fair hair, and mine is
as black as a crow ; and then she is not at all shy.”

“That may be,” said Betty ; but, for all that, you are like
her in some things.” |

Flora had also been quite charmed with Mary, and went
skipping about the deck with her arm twined round her little
visitor's waist. She was delighted to find that Mary had never
been on board a vessel before, and very readily undertook to
show her all over the yacht; but when it came to explaining
things about the working of the ship, Flora said, “Oh, that’s
only for the sailors and boys to know, but not for girls to trouble
themselves about.”

“ But, Flora,” said Mary, “ Papa says he thinks that whatever
interests boys, ought to be interesting to girls also; although
there are some games and sports not suitable for girls, that we do
not care about, and we have special ones to please ourselves.”

“ What things do you mean 2?” said Flora.

- “ Well, there’s fishing, you know,” said Mary; “boys are very
fond of that, but it is not a nice. sport for girls.”

Now Flora was very fond of fishing with a line, and used to
laugh at Cicely for shuddering and running away when any fish
were caught, because she could not bear to see the poor things
wriggling about. Flora, on the other hand, was not the least











ln Danger. 75



afraid, and would even pull the hooks out of their mouths herself.
She was therefore somewhat put out when she heard Mary’s
opinion.

. “That is one of the things I cannot understand about Tom,”
Mary continued ; “‘he is so tender hearted, and so gentle and
kind to the little ones at home. Though boys never care to play
with dolls, and keeping doll’s house, he will do it ever so long,
especially on a wet day, when the children don’t know what to do
with themselves, and nurse is busy; and he is so obliging about
his long legs, and takes such care to have them doubled up, if
possible, to be out of the way. But he is such a keen fisher, and
thinks nothing of killing ever so many.”

“ But all boys are alike about that,” said Flora. “Oh, no, I
forgot,” she went on, “ there’s Frank Hamilton, he does not like
to kill the fish himself, and always gets Georgie to take off those
that come to his line.”

“T only wish our Georgie would play with us,” said Loo.
“He doesn’t think it manly to play with girls, though he is often
glad to have us bowl to him when he is playing cricket, and has
no one else.”

“Oh, Loo,” said Flora, “you know Georgie is sometimes very
obliging, and plays with us-when we keep a shop.”

“Yes, when we keep a shop he doesn’t mind joining us; but
its only that he may eat up all the things we sell him. He
always ends in making either you or me cry afterwards, and so
I'd rather not have him.”

“T gay, girls,” cried Tom Jenner at this moment, “do you
see we are nearly out of sight of land. Do come up, it looks so



queer.”













76 The Children’s Voyage.

Tom helped his sister up on to the erating that ran across the
stern, and held her there till she looked all round. The vessel
rushed along, making a liquid sound in her rapid passage through
the water. Her great main-sail was swollen out against the
rigging, to a vast hollow, by the force of the invisible wind ;
stretching beyond the stern, and overshadowing the waves for
furlongs on the other side. Past it, above the bow, between the
sharp fore-sail and the solid mast, heaved green ridges of the sea
in front, changing in the distance to a pale blue. Within a mile
or two of the horizon came a fleet of distant sloops, in full sail,
taking advantage of the slight breeze, to stand in for some
opposite port; while a white sea-bird or two, hanging with
wings aslant in the grey atmosphere, looked ghastly and ocean-
like.

“Oh, how beautiful!” cried little Mary, clapping her hands.
“See, Tom, they look like fairy boats. What makes them shine
and change to all sorts of colours ?”

“Ah, you must ask Miss Cicely, here,” said Mr. Simcox,
coming forward. “She is quite an authority where fairies are
concerned.” Mr. Simcox, -however, was interrupted by Mr.
Grogan, who stepped up to him to say something in an under-
tone about a squall brewing, which made Mr. Simcox change his
laughing mood to one more solemn. ‘ My dears,” he said, “ Mr.
Grogan wishes me to send you all below, and at once, too; his
experienced eye shows him something in the sky and waves that
we cannot trace, and he considers it necessary to be careful. So,
down below, all of you.”

“Oh, papa, let me stay,” said Georgie; “I could help
famously, and I am not at all afraid of storms.”









[n Danger. 77



Mr. Simcox looked at Mr. Grogan, but the slight pucker of
the worthy skipper’s lip showed him that it was best to make no
exception. Tom Jenner had looked as if he, too, would have
liked to stay; but when Mr. Simcox replied, “No, my son, I
prefer that all should go below,” Tom was the first to show the
example. ‘Come on girls,” he eried, cheerily, seeing that they
were beginning to look frightened ; “I dare say we shall all be
quite jolly down below.”

Georgie, however, began to cry, and insisted that, as he was
going to be a sailor sometime, he ought to be allowed to stay on
deck ; but Mr. Grogan, losing his temper, took him firmly by the
arm and. led him to the companion-way, saying, “If youre going
to be a sailor, young master, the first thing to learn is to obey
orders, and not to pipe your eye on any account.”

No sooner were they all safely down than the moveable hood
of the cabin stairs was drawn over and fastened securely.
Georgie had by this time fairly given way to temper, and he
began to kick at the cabin door with all his might, calling Mr.
Grogan all sorts of hard names.

“T tell you what Georgie,” said Tom, “the skipper was in
the right; there is wind and rain coming, and plenty of it, too,
not to speak of spray., Depend upon it, we are in some danger,
else we would not have been shut down quite so early. They
will require all the room to handle the yacht by-and-by.”

Seeing that his speech had scared, not only the little girls,
but Miss Dalby and Betty also, Tom set himself to cheer them
up. “No cause to be afraid about it though,” he continued.
“Papa knows the coast here very well, and so does Mr. Grogan,
and forewarned is forearmed you know. Come, Frank, let us







78 | The Children’s Vi oyage



get up some game we can all join in. What do you say to give
puzzling questions in geography? Miss Dalby will, perhaps,
help us.”

As there seemed to be nothing going on above to cause them
unnecessary fear, the little girls entered heartily into the plan.
Georgie sat in a corner, and sulked and gloomed to be sure, but
they very properly took no notice of him; and even Betty be-
came quite interested, especially when the puzzle questions were
given about Scotland ; and though she did not know much of
the geography of her native land, and made many absurd mis-
takes, she had many remarks to make about the things that the
places named were famous for, and especially if any great battles
or stirring events had taken place there.

As the day advanced, however, the sea began to get so rough
and disagreeable that Loo and Cicely were glad to allow Betty
to lay them in bed. Then Miss Dalby lay down, and though
Flora fought bravely against it, she, too, was forced to own she
felt queer. Mary Jenner was all right, so were Frank and Tom,
but poor Georgie was so sick that he was forced to tumble into
his sleeping berth anyhow.

The children afterwards spoke of it as a complete storm, and
it was alarming enough to them, though the sailors laughed, and
called it a mere puff. The vessel leant over, and balanced up
again in a very trying way; the furniture tumbled about; the
dash of the sea was loud and weltering on the cutter’s side; the
feet of the crew were heard tramping hastily overhead ; coils of
rope were flung heavily down on the deck; while they all had
great difficulty in keeping from tumbling out of their berths.
Outside, too, the scene was rather a wild one. Tom Jenner had


















Ln Danger. 81



caught a glimpse when the door was opened for a minute by Mr.
Simcox, anxious to ascertain if they were all right. The deck
was dreary, dripping with salt surge, the large sail down, and
the yacht driving on under one square low sheet of canvas, and
a jib stretching towards the bowsprit. But the trim-built Water
Fury, after rising slowly on an angry sea, and ploughing for-
ward into the clouds of spray that came over her head, shook
herself free from it, and skimmed along like a bird. There was
afew moments of great anxiety when the captain, at the helm
himself, stood looking weather-beaten but firm against the
driving scud, with all eyes turned to him ready to obey his
orders. They were trying to weather a point round by a small
lighthouse on the coast, near Blyth Nook, when they would be
able to run in, and lie at anchor till the gale blew itself out.
There was a moment when the wind blew so strong, and seemed
to press against the yacht, as if determined to bar her further
progress, and prevent her gaining the desired haven. Had one
rope or block given way, all might have perished, and the yacht
been dashed against the rocky and dangerous coast. But, the
crew being all experienced and steady men, in a short time the
desired object was successfully gained. They rounded the point,
with full room to pass clear of the rocks ; then, passing the light-
house, they ran into a safe shelter in the mouth of an inlet, when
the anchor was dropped, and soon brought the yacht to a safe
stop.

What a change was instantly felt by all. The Water Fairy
lay in the little cove as quietly as if no storm or gale was raging
outside, and, so steadily did the yacht ride at her anchor, in a
very short time everyone was out of bed again, and up on deck,









82 The Children's Voyage.



quite anxious to hear and see what had caused such a delightful
change. They were surprised to find they were close to land—
so close, indeed, that they could see and hear some fishermen
who were shouting and calling to them from some rocks by the
shore.

“Ay, but they’re grand things thae lighthouses,” said Betty ;
“many a life have they saved forbye ours. And, bairns, it’s to
’ be hoped you'll keep some 0’ your pennies to help to build plenty
more ; for if it hadna been for this one where would we a’ hae
been this day ?”

Betty, from the first, had given all the praise to the light-
house, and though she most heartily agreed with Miss Dalby
that it was owing to the mercy of God they were saved, she
always added— Ay, He guided us to that lighthouse that awful
day, which was the means of saving us from a watery grave.”





















weather being warm, though the sea outside was too
rough for them to think of leaving their anchorage for
the present—the conversation turned upon lighthouses ; and, see-
ing the children were all interested in the subject, Mr. Grogan
said he would relate a story connected with a lighthouse for their
benefit. Accordingly he began the following thrilling narrative





of what had once befallen himself :—
“Well you must know, young ladies and young masters like-



wise, that I was returning from a pretty long trip on the African
coast in the good barque the Dolphin. We had had good
weather and a fairish run, and were beginning to think we should
soon be at home among our friends once more, when the weather
changed just as we entered the Hnelish Channel. We held on,



however, but when not far off Plymouth the gale increased and
blew a perfect hurricane. To make matters worse, our captain
was not a sober man by any means, and had just commenced
one of his drinking bouts, along with the second mate. The
mate, who was as good a seaman as ever stepped, we could fully
rely on; but at times the captain would come on deck and counter-
mand all the mate had got done, and had once or twice nearly













84 Lhe Children’s Voyage.



got us into danger. We were all hoping that the captain would
drink more than usual this time, and so be unable to come on
deck at all. And it’s my opinion that the steward, being a
coward, plied him with drink for that very purpose. We were
making the best of it, as I said, when one day up comes the
captain, and seeing that some of the canvas was close reefed, he
flew into a terrible passion, and ordered everything to be changed.
The men looked dogged, and if the mate had but held up his
little finger they would have refused to obey the captain; but
the mate was true blue, and it was, “obey orders if you break
owners” with him, whatever might be the consequences.

“Tt had been desperate thick weather from the time we began
to enter the Channel, with fits of driving rain; indeed, it could
not well be said that we knew we were in the Channel at all,
except for the worthy mate's care in working up the reckoning
when the captain neglected it. Of the two, in fact, even when
the captain was sober, 1 do believe the mate had more know-
ledge of navigation.

“*Channel be blowd!’ said the captain—looking into the
compass and then giving a furious slap of his hand on the
nearest thing, as his manner was—‘ we're not in the Channel at
all; we're on the open sea off Cape Clear. Set that foresail
again, I tell you, and shove her faster ahead!’ he said.

“Now this was nonsense, as everybody could see but him-
self, for not lone before we had made what we took to be the
Scilly Lights, which are off Land’s End. It was thick now, as I
told you, so that all that could be depended upon was the
reckoning, and no pilot was to be seen as yet.

““Tm very far mistaken,’ says the mate, pointing his hand









The E:ddystone Lighthouse. 85



ahead of us, ‘if the Eddystone Lighthouse be not somewhere
yonder—if we could only have a break through the mist.’

“The captain’s scorn of this idea amounted to perfect rage,
and the words he used were such as could not be repeated. But,
just as if Providence had meant to reprove him in mercy, scarce
a minute or two had passed before the mist began to clear, and
the moon, that had been rising meanwhile, broke through the
clouds. We had not looked long ere we could make out a light
not far from the very direction where the mate had pointed, and
it soon proved to be what he had said, namely, no other than
the famous Eddystone.

“We were all right then, except as to the force of the
weather in standing up for Plymouth. The captain’s folly was
of no further use, for the men did not heed him more than a
child, and he knocked under at once like a bladder that has been
pricked. So far as I was concerned though, I was not done with
him, having good reason to recollect the course he had steered.
The gale came harder than ever as the barque passed the Eddy-
stone, indeed it was touch and go with her to clear the rocks
safely, where the lighthouse stands. She did clear them, though,
getting safe to Plymouth in the end; but in passing by she
shipped a heavy sea which washed the decks and swept away
the cook’s caboose with two men hanging on to it for bare life.
One was the cook himself, and the other was me, that now tells
the story. The ship was gone, no chance of her picking us up,
and the poor cook was soon after lost for good. Whether he let
go his hold of his caboose—which he knew well by hand mark—
or whether he and it were drifted off together, I cannot say.
For my part I had caught a sight of the lighthouse again, right









86 The Children’s Voyage.





to leeward of me, and I struck out boldly, resolved to swim for
my life.

“Tt was winter at the time, but though the sleet had been
resting on the rigging of the ship, and bitter cold it was on the
drifting caboose, yet right in the water I felt none of it; in fact,
IT was all a-glow between the salt brine and the love of life, and
‘I reached the rocks, or rather, I was washed up senseless among
the seaweeds. I must have held on like grim death, for I found
myself all safe in the lee of the building as the tide fell, There
I lay till near morning when one of the men in the lighthouse
came down the outer ladder, found me lying there, and I was .
taken in and cared for.”

» © What things seamen do go through, to be sure,” said Mr.
Jenner.
“> “And never say anything about it, either,” remarked Mr,
‘Simcox, “till something or other draws it out.”

“How cold you must have been, Mr. Grogan,” said Cicely ;
& “how glad you would be to find yourself in the lighthouse.”

“That I was, miss,” replied the skipper; .“and I'll tell you
that-1 never see a lighthouse lamp but it first sends a shiver
through me, and then a feeling of gladness ; for that awful night
comes up to mind painfully distinct at times.”

““T cannot understand how men can be sailors when they

Bake to suffer such privations,” said Miss Dalby.

And they are often wrecked,” said Mary Jenner, “ and yet _
“they go to sea again and again.”

~~: “And a good thing for you, Miss,” said Mr. Grogan, laugh-
ing; “where would you get your sugar and tea from if there
were no-sailors, I should like to know?’



wn
pb
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5
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Lhe Eddystone Lighthouse. 89



“I think it must be far worse to be a lighthouse keeper,”
said Tom Jenner. “How dreary it must be in the long,
dull winter nights, especially when the wind is howling round
it. Surely the poor fellows must be nearly mad with fear lest
they should be swept away.”

“But a lighthouse is never swept away, surely,’ said Frank
Hamilton.

“Well, that same Eddystone once was, my boy,” said Mr.
Jenner. ‘The present one that Mr. Grogan has been telling us
about is not likely to give way, as it is welded into the rock and
has become like a portion of it. It is a round tower of stone
shaped much like a tree growing out of the rock. In the tower
are a door and windows, and a staircase and ladders for ascending
to the lanterns through the rooms of those who keep watch.
All the rocks are covered at high water, so that it was a for-
tunate thing for Mr. Grogan that he was pitched up just when
the tide had ebbed, and that he was taken in before it flowed
full again.”

“But you have not told us about it being swept away,
papa,” said Mary Jenner; “Ido hope there was no one in it at
the time.”

“The first lighthouse on the Eddystone rock,” said Mr.
Jenner, “was built by a Mr. Winstanly, who was a native of
Essex and had a great mechanical turn. His work was begun
and completed in four years; but while some repairs were being
made under his inspection the building was blown down in a
terrible hurricane during the night, and he and his workmen
perished. Not a trace of them or it remained behind but some
iron stanchions and a chain.”













90 The Children’s Voyage.



“That must have been a brave man, indeed, who thought of
building it up again,” said Frank.

“Tt may surprise you to hear then, Master Frank, that the
next to try it was a silkmercer, by name Rudyerd. His want of
experience was made up by the assistance of two shipwrights
from the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich.”

“Two ship-carpenters!” cried Georgie—* what good could
they do 2”

“A great deal,” replied Mr. Jenner, “seeing that Rudyerd’s
lighthouse was entirely constructed of wood, except a few courses
of stone on the rock.”

“Oh, but of course 2 was washed away,” said Georgie.

“Not at all,” said Mr. Jenner. “Rudyerd performed his
work in a masterly manner, and so as to perfectly answer the
purpose for which it was intended. It was destroyed by fire,
unfortunately. There is no fear of the present one, however, for
it is sufficient to immortalize the name of the architect and
engineer, John Smeaton, by its great beauty and strength.

“Still, for all that, Iam glad I am not a keeper of a light-
house,” said Tom Jenner again. “I like to read about them ~
very much, but that is quite enough to my thinking.”

“And to be saved by them, as Betty would say,” said Mr.
Simcox. .“ Now you youngsters had better get to bed, for, if
the weather is favourable, we mean to make an early start
to-morrow, and have a good, long run before night. We hope
to see your native shores by that time, Betty,” he continued,
turning to the worthy woman, “so get your young ladies off to
bed at once.”













OVER THE BORDER.

é| HILE Betty was busy helping the little girls to undress,

boys’ room. ‘Oh! something must be the matter with
Frank” cried Cicely, “that was certainly his voice. Oh! run,
Betty, run!”




Cicely was half-way across the little saloon floor before
she knew what she was doing; but the gentlemen had heard
the scream also, and had hastened to the little sleeping place.
There they discovered the unfortunate Frank, blood stream-
ing from his nose, and his face as white as a sheet. He
kept, trying to say it was only an accident, being anxious to
conceal the true cause, which, however, had to be told. Tom
had been making fun with Georgie about being so sick during
the gale. Frank had been standing by, not joining at all in the
sport, but had laughed heartily at some witty remark of Tom’s.
Georgie, annoyed at this, flew at Frank and struck him in the face,
causing his nose to bleed. At first it was thought a mere trifle,
and Frank, after his nose had been bathed, said he felt all right
and was put to bed, when he soon fell asleep. The next
morning, however, he did not seem to be at all well, and was
glad to be allowed to lie still. Cicely was much concerned for
her brother, and at first was quite cross with Georgie, but when
she saw how distressed he was, she relented somewhat, and even









92 The Children’s Voyage.



allowed him to carry in a portion of the invalid’s breakfast.
Mr. Simcox had given his son a good lecture the evening before,
and Georgie, having, with all his faults, some good points about
him, was really ashamed of himself, and determined to make up
for his misconduct to his father’s guests, by better behaviour in
future. Frank, too, did not feel altogether free from blame, and
was ready to own that he ought not to have laughed; and he
made up his mind to bear his confinement in bed and the
headache with patience. Sceing how amiable every one was
trying to be, Betty exerted herself to make the children feel as
comfortable towards each other as possible. She had never told
such delighful stories as she did that day while sitting by Frank’s
bed. All the children gathered close round the door, or sat on
lockers or anything handy, where they could hear the sound of
her voice. Most of Betty’s stories were of her own young days,
and they were all “quite true.” Stories out of Betty's head were
good, but her true ones were much better, only it was not often
she would speak of herself. But when she could be induced
to do so, even the well known beginning used to make Cicely
happy. “I mind when I was young,” was the usual introduction
to her true stories. “Once upon a time,” was generally the
commencement of her imaginary ones.

Tt came on rather a showery forenoon, but no one wanted
to go up on deck. Betty had already told several of her best
stories “out of her head,” including one about a ghost, when, all
of a sudden, when no one was expecting it, she began, “ Aye an’
we're to land at Berwick they tell me. I mind when I was
young, the first visit I paid it, and I’m no so likely ever to forget
it if I live for ever and a day. Obhone, no.”









—

Over the Border. 93



“Oh, why Betty ?” cried Cicely; “do tell us about it ;’ while
all again prepared to listen. Even Tom Jenner, who had never
heard any of Betty’s stories, felt something special was coming,
and tucked his long legs up “a la Turk” as he called it, and
declared he was ready to sit and listen all day.

“T mind when I was young,” said Betty—taking off her
spectacles and polishing them slowly and impressively with her
blue checked apron, the pause making each one feel as if a deep
gulf separated, that time from the present—*I had gone to pay
my aunty May a visit, and she was stopping at Berwick then, by
the shore. She had three children, all of them older than I was.
The two oldest were boys, but the youngest was a girl, and they
called her Lizzie. She was some years younger than the boys,
my aunt having lost two children, and because of this, and being
a girl, my uncle just fairly spoilt Lizzie. My heart was sore at
leaving home, for I was very happy there, but I was a spinty,
delicate, bit o’ a thing, and the doctor had ordered me off for a



change of air. Bairns, I would have ye learn to be kind to
visitors and strangers, for, let me tell you, what is considered a
fine change to some is anything but that, if they're no treated
kindly. It had been the rule in my father’s house that, if we
had strangers living with us, we must give in to them in every-
thing, no matter whether we thought them absurd or no; for, as
my father would often tell us, the very wild Arabs treated their
visitor with particular hospitality. But my cousin Lizzie had a
very different up-bringing, and, visitor or no visitor, she had to
have her own way, willy nilly. Her brothers, Tom and Willie,
were nice enough laddies, and I cannot but say they were very
kind to me at times, but they sometimes played off their jokes











94 The Children’s Voyage.



upon me, for they found it was better to meddle with me than
with Lizzie. Her, ‘I'll tell my father,’ made them stop their
pranks directly, for they were afraid of him, and he did hit them
hard, being of a passionate disposition.

“Well, not far from the house there was an old ruined castle,
and in the court yard an old well that had been empty for years.
We could see the gleam of water at the bottom, but it was only
a shallow spring, and often there was only a little trinkle left.
We had been told never to play near it, or about the castle walls,
for they were crumbling fast, and some of the stones had fallen
upon a man a short time before; but just as if Lizzie had the
spirit of mischief in her, no sooner was her father’s back turned
than she insisted upon going to the castle to play. To get rid
of her noise, my aunty would bid the boys go with us, saying it
was all havers if we were careful ; and she could not bear to hear
the lassie cry. We had played there for ever so many days, and
every morning it was just a settled thing to set off to the old
castle the moment my uncle was out of sight.

“Lizzie had got a beautiful ball from her father, who had been
at some country market, and he was mindful to bring me a pretty
string of blue beads at the same time. We took them with us,
the very morning after we got them, to our favourite place by
the castle, and a fine game the four of us had with the beautiful
ball, on the green grass which was called the lawn. I was
pitching it to Tom when it went over his head, and sprang off
and popped into the deep dry well. I'll never forget the passion
Lizzie put herself into; it was most terrible to witness. It was
no use to offer her my bonnie bead necklace. She at first scorned
it, then tore it off my neck and sent the beads flying here, there,











Over the Border. 95



and everywhere; then stood stamping and roaring, and even
tried to bite Tom with her teeth when he wished to soothe her.
‘I want my ba’! Pll hae my bonnie ba’,’ was all her ery, and
seeing the laddies were frightened for fear of their father, I cried
out, ‘Aweel, haud your tongue, and [ll get yé your ba’

“Tt was no wonder the laddies looked at me, but I had a
daring spirit, and I showed them that if they would help me to
bring the long bit of rope that was in the barn, and tie it round
my waist, ’d go down and get the ball. In the middle of it all,
I could no help thinking, what an ugly, hateful thing, a selfish
child was. Here Lizzie stood, old enough to have plenty of
sense, but so wrapt up in her own self, that she did not mind
although I risked my life if she only got her ball.

“The boys did try to stop me, but seeing my mind was
made up, the rope was got, and with the help of a tree near
they lowered me down. The rope was a little too short and I
cried to the boys to let it out to the end, so they unfastened it
from the tree, but in doing this they let go their hold, and
down I went into the water. I can’t tell you what I felt bairns.
There was very little water in the well as I said before, but
enough to soak me, for after a time I had to sit down for weak-
ness, and when night came on, and no body near me, I can tell
you it was dreary enough.”

“But why didn’t your cousins get you out,” cried Georgie.

“Just because they were cowards, Master Georgie,” said
Betty. “They were afraid of their father, and so they made up
a story how I had lost Lizzie’s ball in the river, and that I
was afraid to come back and had run away home. It was not
a very likely story, seeing that I lived in Fife, but the simple















96 The Children’s Voyage.



folks believed it, and sent a man on horse-back for ever so far
along the road they said I had taken, to fetch me back, ‘The
other roads were searched too, but it was not till the next morn-
ing that my whereabouts was discovered. It would take hours
to tell you of all the things I thought of and the fear I was in,
and the wonder was I did not go crazy. But sleep came to me
at last, and so I forgot my troubles.”

“But how did you get out?” cried more than one voice.

“Well, you see the boys they slept in a bed in the servant's
room, and the servant she heard them speaking about me, and
wondering what I would be doing; and Tom he began to cry
and said—‘Oh Betty will die if we don’t get her out, and her
ghost will come and haunt us.’

“Then the servant listened, and she heard Willie say they
would get a new long rope and haul me up with it; and she
made them tell her all about it, and in a very short time she had
all the men about the place turned out, and they lowered a
ladder and had me taken up. I was ill with a fever for months
after that, and for years on end I was a sickly child, so you see
children I have reason to mind my first visit to Berwick.”

The Water Fairy now made a fine pleasant run from Blyth
Nook, where she had taken shelter, and, passing round the cele-









brated Holy Island, of historic fame, she arrived in the course of
the afternoon at the mouth of the river Tweed, where a day or
two had to be spent.

Here, as is well known, England is separated from the northern
kingdom by the classic stream of Tweed, which finds it way to
the sea in a lovely little bay. Inside, on the southern bank, is
Tweedmouth, a small harbour town, and on the northern shore















Over the Border. 97



is the memorable little town of Berwick, with the remains of its
old fortified walls and green moated castle. The two towns
are connected by a long narrow bridge, and altogether the place
was full of interest to the whole party. There was a queer,
quaint mixture of old and new, and of things and people from
the two countries. There was an old fashioned fair or market
just ending at the time, and grey Border shepherds, followed by
their dogs, were mixed up with coasting sailors, fishermen in
long boots shining with fish scales, soldiers from the garrison,
and Northumberland and Yorkshire drovers. The harbour was
full of funny little sloops, luggers, and boats; then there were
the salmon-fishers, who were hard at work with their nets and
boats, as.the tide made in the evening. There was a long stone
pier on the Berwick side, and when the party strolled.out to the
end of this they were almost in full view of the German Ocean.

It was the loveliest evening they had had since they left
home, the smell of the sea, through the seaweed about the pier,
came sharp and exhilarating. Round the bay, toward the
northern coast, there were delightful looking coves under the
rocks, where great shaggy stones stood out from amidst the
gurgling tide ; with slopes of the smoothest sand, all sparkling
with shells, where Tom Jenner said it would be jolly to bathe.
Everything looked bright and golden in the setting sun, the
very shadows being transparent. The water, as it swelled and
pulsed along the pier, took a golden reflection from the sky, and
threw it up on the faces and figures of the lads and boys who
were fishing for codlings and “ podlies” from the edge.

“Wouldn’t you think they were catching goldfish?” said
Cicely to Mary Jenner.











98 The Children’s Voyage.



“Yes, and they look so bright and happy themselves,” said
Mary, “you might think some of them were gilded over.”

Mr. Jenner made them all laugh by saying it was the fiery
effect of their own yellow hair; all Scotchmen being supposed
to have hair of that colour, if not red. Betty, you may be sure
was not a little put out at this statement, and resented it as far
as she dared by saying, that “There was as many black-a-vised
men in her country as ever there were in England, if not more ;
and for that matter she could not see what folk got to laugh at
in red hair; it was as good a colour to her thinking as black or
white.” Not that Betty would allow these fishermen to be her
own country folk, for, as she said,—‘ Berwick was neither Scotch
nor English, but a Royal Borough by itself, prbevongig to what
she called the ‘common good.’”

Fortunately Betty’s ire was not very dreadful at the worst,
and, feeling herself so close to her native land, she was in a
forgiving humour. The worthy woman was made happy in the
end by Mr. Jenner praising, not only the outward appearance
of her countrymen, but also their mental capacity.









Full Text



FE. EAE

The Baldwin Library
University

RMB wii




THE CHILDREN’S VOYAGE.




YACHTS RACI

17

ERITH—P.

&
i
°

NG—








t THE

CHILDRENS VOYAGE

OR

_ A TRIP IN THE WATER FAIRY

BY
Mrs. GEORGE CUPPLES
AUTHOR OF ‘‘KATTY LESTER,” ‘‘TAPPY’S CHICKS,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED WITH CHROMOGRAPHS
FROM THE ORIGINALS IN WATER-COLORS, BY EDWARD DUNCAN
MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF PAINTERS IN WATER-COLORS





London +

t MARCUS WARD & 0O., CHANDOS STREET, COVENT GARDEN
And ROYAL ULSTER WORKS, BELFAST







WF
ig

wt








BELFAST:
PRINTED BY MARCUS WARD & CO.,
RoyaL ULSTER WORKS.
se
Note.—THE CHROMOGRAPHS ARE FACSIMILES OF THE ORIGINAL DRAWINGS MADE FOR
VERE Foster, Esqg., By E. DUNCAN, MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF

PAINTERS IN WATER-COLORs.










CONTENTS.



Yacuts Racine—Orr Errta (Chromograph ), ; Frontispiece.
A Punasant SURPRISE
Toe Water Fairy Sers Our
Outwarp Bounp—Tus THames orr GRavesenD (Chromogruph.)
Av Sza—Treasures or THE DEEP
Fisuine Boats Going Our—Orr Norroux ( Chromograph )
Tue Sxiprer’s Story
Tae Apanponep Sup (Chromograph) .
Maxine tHe Best or a Catm
Homsewarp Bounp—Taxine in a Pinot (Chromograph)
On tHe Humper
Comine Into THE HuMBER—FISHERMEN ON THE Loox-ouT (Chromograph )
Rosin Hoon’s Bay
Passine Wuitsy (Chromograph )
In Dancer . ; .
Burt Noox (Chromograph )
Tue Eppystoyg LicutHouss .
Ditto Ditto ( Chromograph )
OvER THE BoRDER
Tue Pier at Burwick (Chromograph) .
Autcr’s First VoracE
Orr tHe Iste or Arran (Chromograph )
Tue Bass Rock .
Ditto ( Chromograph)
Ros Rov’s Cave

PAGE

b4
58
63
70
73
79
83
87
91
99
101

. 108

110

. 118

118






THE CHILDREN’S VOYAGE.



A PLEASANT SURPRISE.










g| WO little pale faces looking at each other
out of two little brass crib-beds, placed at
opposite corners of the roomy and cheerful
nursery, at the top of a large house; and a

~ hale, old, pleasant-eyed woman sitting by



= the fire, carefully stirring at some stuff in a
pipkin, and humming to herself some slow ditty, while



Z, often she nodded, and smiled over her shoulder to them.

Such is the group with which our story sets out.

The little pale faces were those of Cicely and Frank Hamilton,
who had been ill, not only with measles, but with hooping-cough
also. A weary time it had been to both, and an anxious as well
as a weary time to old Betty, their faithful nurse. They lived in
one of the West-end suburbs of London, where every comfort
surrounded them, with not a few luxuries; but the winter and
spring had been trying for children, and these two had suffered
severely. They were very much dependent upon good, old Scotch
Betty, because their mamma was dead, and their papa at busi-
ness in the city all day; so that, even when recovering, they saw








10 Lhe Children’s Voyage.



him very little, and now only for a few minutes in the evening.
Still, short though his visit was, it was looked forward to by both
as the happiest time in the long day ; for Mr. Hamilton did not
only bring home some nice, pretty gift, but had always some-
thing funny or pleasant to relate. “It was such a pity,” Betty
used to say, “that gentlemen like their papa should be kept so
closely engaged at work in that dirty, smoky town. For her
part she did not see why it was so, when he had everything that
a human being could want; a fine house, a carriage, plenty to
eat and drink and to give to his friends. But there he is, work-
ing as hard as ever—harder, indeed, since the death of Mrs.
Hamilton, and leaving his children to pine and get sickly over
their dull, monotonous life.”

As Betty sat, staring at her sauce-pan, if you had looked
closely at her, you would have seen a smile quivering for a
moment round the corners of her firm mouth, and her grey eyes
gleaming under her thick eyebrows. She had been making up her
mind to speak seriously to Mr. Hamilton for ever so many days,
about his seeing so little of his children; and that very morning
she had put into execution her threat of giving the master a bit
of her mind. She had, as she said, “made him properly ashamed.
of himself, and just what he ought to be, too; neglecting two of
the bonniest bairns” (Betty was, as we have said, a Scotch-
woman,) “that anyone could wish to see.” She had gone about,
after her master’s departure for the city, purring like a good-
natured old cat ; quite forgetting to scold the cook even for
sending up the beef-tea weaker than she quite approved of, She
was pleased with herself, as was quite apparent to all; and no
wonder, for, though Mr. Hamilton was of an easy disposition, it








A Pleasant Surprise. il



was well known he did not like to be dictated to by any of his
household. Betty was certainly headstrong, and would have
thought little of confronting the whole staff of servants in a
body, old Martin the butler included ; still, even she had taken
a few days beforehand to think over her speech. To Betty’s
great astonishment, her master took her first words quite
mildly, and she, encouraged by his manner, did not stop till her
whole mind had been spoken. Mr. Hamilton’s eyebrows had
contracted somewhat ominously, when she reminded him that,
whatever wealth might be gained, yet, in the making, it would
soon turn to dross and tinsel if he lost his children. “My good
woman,” Mr. Hamilton had said, “what do you want me to do?”
To which Betty replied, “Just bide more at home, sir, with the
poor things, for its waesome to think their father never as much
as takes a drive in the park with them ; and, as for walking out
hand-in-hand, which is about the bonniest sight a body can see,
why the very bairns that belong to the man wi’ the cuddy-cart
and the vegetables are better off, for he walks them out every
Sabbath day.”

Mr. Hamilton had not made any further reply to Betty, ex-
cept by dismissing her at the time with an emphatic, “ That will
do, Betty.” But Betty knew her words had had some effect, and
retired to the nursery triumphant, remarking to one of the maids,
that “she kenned the master fine—it was like a barbit arrow
that she had planted into him, and it would stick there till it led
to something.”

It was drawing towards the afternoon, and Betty was warm-
ing some chicken soup, which Frank had taken a fancy to have;
when he called out, “1 do think it 7s a shame—I’m sure the














12 The Children’s Voyage.



measles was bad enough—but to end in hooping-cough!—oh, I’m
tired-of my life, I really am!”

“Oh, Frank, how can you speak so, when we are both so
much better again?” said his sister. “It is quite wicked of you;
it is indeed.”

“ Aye, Miss Cicely,” said Betty, “he’s a bad laddie to say
such a thing, an’ he just escapit frae the very jaws of death
himsel’.”

“ Well, I can’t help it,” said Frank. “I’m tired of my life,
and I want to get up. I know I’m far stronger to-day ; in-
deed I feel as if I could run from one end of London to the
other—and, as for eating, I could eat you, Betty, if you were in
the shape of anything nice.”

Frank and Cicely were laughing at the joke, when the door
opened, and in walked their papa at a much earlier hour than
anyone had ever seen him return from the city before. It was
not surprising that Cicely should cry out, “ Oh, papa, I hope you
are not ill, too ?”—for Martin, the butler, who never allowed
himself to be surprised at anything, had been so startled below,
that he had asked the same question, Mr. Hamilton had re-
plied to him in rather an abrupt manner, but at sight of the
children’s surprised faces, and Betty’s evident astonishment, he
could not help laughing. “JU!” said he, “what has put that
idea into your heads? Betty has been scolding me for not spend-
ing more of my time beside you, so I have come away from
business to-day to please her.”

“Qh, papa, do you really mean to say you are to spend the
afternoon with us?” said Frank ; and, when he was answered in
the affirmative, he fairly screamed with delight. “Oh, if Betty




A Pleasant Surprise. 13



would only let us get out of bed, just for a little, it would be
perfectly delightful.”

“And if you could take tea with us, papa,” said Cicely, “it
would be -



But Cicely could not finish her sentence for the
tears that would roll out of her eyes with very happiness.

To their intense satisfaction their papa not only said he could
not see why they should not be allowed to get up for a little, but
went off himself to order two of the most comfortable easy-chairs
to be brought up for them; and made them laugh by saying
that, though he was always accustomed to have a longer invita-
tion—one sent in a proper form—still, for once, he would waive
ceremony, and stay to tea.

Could a happier little girl have been found in the whole of
London, that afternoon, than Cicely Hamilton? We do not
think so. There she sat, pouring out cup after cup of tea, which
her papa never seemed to be tired of drinking. Fortunately the
cups were her best doll’s-china, brought out by Betty herself ;
which showed she, too, considered their guest was some special
one, for that particular set of china was only allowed to be looked
at, not used; and this fact made Cicely all the more dignified,
as she said afterwards, “It was like entertaining the Queen, or
some great personage.” To which Frank replied, somewhat in-
dignantly, “Id rather have papa to tea than all the queens in
the world.” .

“No, Miss Cicely, I really cannot drink any more,” said Mr.
Hamilton. “You are exceedingly kind; but I think I must
have taken thirty cups already.” ,

“Oh, no, papa, not quite so many,” said Cicely. “ Do have
just one more, if you please !”








14 The Children’s Voyage.



“ Well, I shall just have one more,” said Mr. Hamilton. And
the little tea-pot was filled again from Betty’s large one, and
poured out with renewed ceremony. ‘“ You make such good tea,
Cis,” he continued, “that I think I shall have you to pour out
mine in the drawing-room after this.”

“Yes indeed, papa!” said Cicely ; “ but could I manage the
great silver tea-pot ? and would Martin allow me 2”

“Oh, I did not think of that,” said Mr. Hamilton, laughing.
“Well, make haste and get strong, and we shall see about it.
Meanwhile, I shall come up and have it out of these dainty
dishes. I see Betty knows how to make tea. I must really go;
there is the dressing-bell: but how am I to eat any dinner after
drinking so much tea ?”

“Oh, must you go, papa?” cried Cicely. “ The dressing-bell
already,” said Frank; “ how fast the time has slipped away!”

Towards the end of the week, Mr. Hamilton again came home
early ; but by this time the children were able to be carried to
the school-room, where they were renewing acquaintance once
more with their toys and playthings. When he entered, Cicely
instantly asked him if he would stay to tea again, but Mr.
Hamilton said he had not time, as he had a friend with him in
the library. He had only come up to deliver an invitation to them
from this gentleman to join him in a very pleasant excursion.

“An excursion, papa!” cried both of them. “Oh, how de-
lightful!”

“And a nice, long one, too,” was the reply, with an arch
smile ; “something quite different from any you have ever had.”
And their papa went on to explain that it was on account of
their health. It turned out to be no less than a trip by sea, ina








A Pleasant Surprise. 15



yacht belonging to Mr. Simcox, a city friend of Mr. Hamilton,
and always a very kind one to the children on his visits. Mr.
Simcox’s children had also been ill about the same time as the
little Hamiltons, with the same complaints—these having been
very common during that spring ; and the doctor had strongly
recommended a great change of air, but, above all, something
like a voyage.

“What! out on the open sea?” cried Frank. “ Oh, glorious!
Do, pray, let us go, papa—-we should enjoy it so much!”

Cicely was not quite so enthusiastic as her brother, for Betty
had told many stories about her voyage from Scotland, and those
about the waves and the storms were so thrilling, that the little
girl was somewhat nervous at the thought. Betty’s exclamation
—“Oh! mercy me, sir, surely you will never let the bairns go in
such a cockle-shell of a thing as thae yachts!”—did not help to
calm Cicely’s mind. But she was not a selfish girl, and, seeing
Frank was go eager, she kept her fears in the backeround ; while,

-as for any hesitation she had shown, it was put down to her
shyness in meeting the strange little girls.

“T suppose the children and you can be ready by Thursday,
Betty ?” said Mr. Hamilton, rising to go. “Mr. Simcox has
kindly put off sailing on Wednesday, so I should not like any
further delay.”

“ Me, sir!” cried Betty. “Did you mean me to go too, in
that bit of a fishing-boat 2”

“ Yes, certainly, Betty,” was the answer. “The children, of
course, cannot go alone in their weak state, and, what’s more,
nurse, it is to Scotland that we are going.”

“No possible, sir,” exclaimed Betty, with uplifted hands and






16 The Children’s Voyage.



wondering eyes, “to Scotland, no less! That’s a different story,
no doubt. The fine caller air will be sure to bring them round,
sir, to say nothing o’ the hills; they’re a grand sicht, as yell
acknowledge yersel’, Mr. Hamilton, when ye see. them.”

“But Iam not to be of the party, Betty, ’m sorry to say,”
replied Mr. Hamilton. “ Business obliges me to remain, though
I may be able to join you by railway afterwards, when I hope to
see your grand mountains for the first time.”

Nurse’s fresh surprise was thus disposed of, without further
exclamations, and nothing remained to be done but to set about
making ready for the journey. All was at once hurry and
preparation. Betty, when put to it, was a capital manager ; and,
when the day came for their setting out to embark, no one was
more proud than she to display her readiness. She seemed as
delighted as Frank was himself; and did her very best in sooth-

ing and keeping up the spirits of Cicely. Mr. Simcox’s children
had a governess with them, so as to save Mr. Hamilton that care ;
while everything else could be counted on, from his friend’s side,
to make up for any slight oversight on his part, and to set his
mind at ease about them.












THE WATER FAIRY SETS OUT.
(Szr FRONTISPIECE. )
f B SIMCOX’S yacht was lying on the Thames, opposite
3 Exith, along with several others which had joined in a
Yess match from the river’s mouth. All was liveliness in
the pretty Kent village, at the beginning of summer, and all
was gaiety outside upon the water, as the yachts unfurled their
sails and hoisted their flags, to move away in succession to a
regatta down the Thames. The Water Fairy was ready also, as
if about to joim them, and no time was lost in getting on board
by wherries, which took off both parties, causing little Cicely
some degree of flutter, until she was safe on the deck. Here it
seemed quite safe in comparison ; all was so trim, and nice, and
comfortable looking, especially below in the well-furnished cabin,
with its neat sleeping closets at the side, and the pretty little
rooms at the stern, which the girls were to have. By that time
Cicely’s fears were over; she did not even shiver when she felt
that the vessel was moving—indeed the river was so smooth, and
the breeze so light, that they hardly knew it till they were well
on their way. Most of them came on deck soon, quite enjoying
the clever way in which the vessel passed through a throng of
others, avoiding noisy steamers, crowded with people, that rushed
along in every direction. Then there was a kind of race with
some of the other yachts, which took them swiftly down the
opening reaches of the river, when the Water Fairy parted














18 The Children’s Voyage.



company from the rest near Gravesend, and began to hold her
way alone towards the broad, green, dancing waters, that already
showed signs of the open sea.

Gravesend was visible on the shore, with its shipping, and
smoke, and the windows of the brown old houses sparkling
through, backed by rich green woods, that seemed new to the
children, as if they had been along time away from land. By
that time it was past noon, and, the tide being unfavourable for
a while, the yacht went in towards the harbour, and anchored..
Everbody was hunery after such a busy time, except two of Mr.
Simcox’s children, who were still too unwell to care much for
food. The nice luncheon was much enjoyed by the rest, and the
little Hamiltons made better acquaintance with Georgie Simcox,
who was a spirited boy, fond of everything belonging to the sea,
and dressed like a young sailor. He had not got rid of his cough
yet; but his appetite was better eee and he said he should
soon get well at sea.

“We never saw the sea before,” said Frank, looking still
rather anxiously at the rippling surface, towards both shores of
the river, while his sister crept shyly to his side.

“Oh, no,” she whispered ; “and it does look so wide! Shall -
we be long upon it, do you think ?”

“Why, you don’t for a moment suppose we are at sea yet !”
broke out Georgie, a little loftily. “When you get.there you
will soon know the difference. I just hope none of us may be
pretty sick—though’the doctor says it would do us good.”

“Do you know about ships ?” asked Frank.

“Oh, don’t I?—I’m going to be a sailor myself,” was the
answer, “ My father has several ships of his own, besides smaller












Lhe Water Fatry Sets Out. 19



craft. I can row a boat if I get anyone to help me. There’s one
going to be sent ashore just now to the wharf. Suppose we get
leave to go 2”

Frank felt inclined to try, but Cicely pulled him by the
sleeve, and he drew back from the proposal. Georgie Simcox
persevered in asking his father’s leave to go, and, though at first
forbidden, was at last allowed. “Well, my boy, if you promise
not to buy too many sweetmeats you may go with the men,”
said Mr. Simcox.

The boat went off with him, and, meanwhile, the children
were occupied enough in looking at the stir of the various boats,
vessels, and steamers, of all kinds and sizes, that went up or
down. It was so warm and fine, yet airy, that the two little,
invalid girls were now brought up by their governess, Miss Dalby,
and sat enjoying the scene from the deck.

“Look,” said Mr. Simcox, pointing out towards the middle
of the river, “there is an ocean steamer, coming in from Holland ;
and that, yonder, is an American vessel, being tugeed up.”

“How interesting,” said Miss Dalby, who was delighted to
instruct her pupils in every way, and still more, at present, to
enliven the little girls. “ But how is it possible that you can tell
so far off, Mr. Simcox 2”



“ By the flags,” he replied, showing them how to know the
bright stars and stripes from the three-coloured Dutch ensign.

“That flag, at any rate,” said the governess, pointing towards
a large, beautiful ship, which lay at anchor opposite the yacht,
& hel . + o ‘ Ly 2”

belongs to our own country, surely ?

“Yes,” said Mr. Simcox; “it is an emigrant ship, bound for

Australia. She is evidently waiting to drop down, and will, no










20 The Children’s Voyage.



doubt, go out to sea along with us.” He took out a pocket-
telescope, and by its help ran his eye along the sides of the ship,
after which he handed the glass to Miss Dalby, requesting her to
look through it.

“Dear me!” she exclaimed, “what numbers of people—all
leaving home to emigrate—how strange that they dare go so vast
a distance !”

The children, in succession, looked through the glass, not a
little to their amusement, and in many ways to their wonder.
Nurse Betty at length was favoured with a peep, which she had
been most desirous to obtain, on account of having a cousin settled
in Australia. “Oh, peety me,” she cried, “I see wee bairnies
totting about. Are they going to take such wee creatures across
that great big sea? Where will they get milk for their por-
ridge ?” :

At that moment a deep moo—o—oo came sounding over the
water, followed by a bleating of sheep, and a crowing of cocks,
which made Betty start. “I do declare it’s a perfect Noah’s
Ark ; they’ve gotten a cow in the ship, and sheep. Oh, I see,
they'll be milk ewes. I mind my grand-mother used to make
ewe’s-milk cheeses langsyne.” .

The children laughed heartily at the idea of sheep giving
milk, and it was not until Mr. Simcox said Betty was right, that
they would believe it. “Maybe you'll not believe a euddy can
give milk either—what ye ca’ a donkey,” said Betty ; “but for
all that it’s quite true. Our old euddy, Jess, gave a good drop
at times.”

Betty had numbers of stories about this same donkey to



relate—indeed they were her very best; so Cicely and Frank






The Water Fairy Sets Out. 21.



thought it was wiser not to laugh any more about the milk ewes,
lest she should take offence, and tell them no more. “I should
like to go to Australia,” said Frank. “What a nice long
voyage, and what a lot of strange things there would be to see
there.”

“Oh, laddie, dinna tak such a notion into your head,” said
Betty.” “I remember so well when my cousin went away; he
thought it was grand; but, let me tell you, there were sore hearts
left behind that day he sailed, and his own was troubled, weel I
wat.”

Boats had been passing to and from the vessel, and one now
came a little nearer to where the yacht was lying. There were



sad faces enough in it, and even the sound of crying could be
heard from the yacht’s deck. One old woman, in particular,
seemed to be weeping very much, while a younger one was trying
to get her to look back at the. great ship, where, towards the end
of the vessel, a young man could be seen, by the help of the glass,
waving a bright-coloured handkerchief.

“Why do they go away when it makes people so sorry ?” said
Cicely, feeling very much inclined to cry herself.

“To make their fortune,” said Frank. “Why, don’t you
know, there are heaps of gold to be picked up in Australia ?”

“But not without a great deal of hard work, Master Frank,”
said Mr. Simcox. “ Fortunes are not so easily made, even in a
gold country ; and when made, they are twice as hard to keep.”

“That’s true, sir,” said Brigos, the boatswain, with a shake of
the head, as he held up little Flora in his arms to see the ship.
“T know summat of that, 1 do, seeing as how I made my pile
twice and lost it.”








is
bo

The Children’s Voyage.



“ Were you robbed of it, Briggs ?” inquired Mr. Simcox.

“No, sir,” was the reply; “I lost it in a more foolish way ;
for you must know, sir, that seamen are not very careful of their
hard-earned wages, and when they get ashore make the money
fly like dust. Besides, there are always bad people on the look-
out to entrap simple sailors—and it was among some of that sort
I lost my pile. Gambling was the fashion in that part at that
time, and little was done for the comfort of sailors ashore, as is
the case now.”

“Were you ever in Australia, Mr. Briggs ?” said Frank.

“Yes, sir, three times or thereabouts ; but it wasn’t at the
gold fields of Australia I made my pile, but in the mines of
California.”

“Oh, do tell us about that,” said Frank, who could not let a
story slip past him.

“No time for that now, master,” replied Briggs. “ There is
the boat returning, and we'll have to take her in.” And the
boatswain went away to see after it.

“Tt does seem strange,” said Miss Dalby, “that people should
go so far away from their native country in search of fortune,
or even of work, when there seems to be so much to do for every-
body at home.”

“ But, Miss Dalby,” said Cicely, “I thought everybody went
out in search of fortune. In my fairy tale book, even the kings
sent their sons out, for most of the stories begin—‘ Once upon a
time, a certain king had three sons, and he sent them out into
the world to seek their fortune.”

“ Ah, Miss Dalby, see what a work-a-day world this is,” said
Mr. Simcox, smiling ; “even. the fairy tale books do something




The Water Fairy Sets Out. 23



for them. It was a very sensible thing of the fairy kings to
send their sons out into the world.”

“Oh, they are not fairy kings, sir!” said Cicely ; “ they were
just plain kines; but the fairies came and took care of the
princes if they were good, and if they were industrious they
gave them something to help them.”

“ Ah, we must hear more of these wise monarchs, sometime,”
said Mr. Simcox. “I hope a kind fairy will help the good ship,
there, over the waste of waters, and that it will reach its desti-
nation in safety.”

The boat having now come alongside, Georgie came up on
deck, but it was easily seen he was not so brisk and active as he
had been in the morning; indeed, when Betty civilly asked him if
there was anything the matter with him, that he was looking so
pale and tired, he was almost cross, and twisted his shoulder out
of her hand, in quite a rude manner. Fortunately his papa had
gone to the other end of the vessel to speak to Grogan, the
master, or skipper; and, Miss Dalby having reproved him, no
further notice was taken of it.

Late in the afternoon, the tide and wind being ae favour-
able, it was seen that preparations were being made in the
emigrant ship to leave the roadstead and set sail. The canvas
was loosed from her lofty yards by some of the crew, while, from
her fore-deck, there came the click and rattle of the windlass, as
the anchor was being heaved up, with a “yo—he—oh !” that
broke off at intervals into a kind of wild song, and then was
renewed in boisterous chorus. By and by it ceased all at once,
then one or two sails were spread high in front, and the ship
began to move, turning gracefully towards the mid-current.


































24 The Children’s Voyage.



Already the yacht was taking the same course, with her anchor
tripped, and, being further down, at first bade fair to leave the
emigrant vessel: behind.

“We'll beat her, you'll see,” said Georgie, entering into that
view of the matter with great glee.

“Oh, such a beautiful sight, Frank!” said Cicely, eagerly,
drawing her brother and the children to the stern to watch as
the ship opened all her white wings, and caught the full breeze
from behind them. .

“Oh dear, dear,” said Flora Simcox, who was the elder of
the two other girls, “ what if that great monster were to come



upon us!” And she gave rather an affected little scream. Her
younger sister, Loo, who had a favourite doll in her arms, and
was a chubby little thing in spite of her late illness, with more
good sense, as Cicely thought, than her sister, said, as she looked
at her father, near the helm, “Such stuff, now, Flo; as if papa
would let it—’sides, don’t you see, there’s Alick driving our
ship !”

Loo knew this Alick, as she called him, who, it seemed, was
the best sailor on board, though he sometimes used to drive the
carriage at home. As to the Water Fairy itself, she never
would be persuaded that it was not really alive, and that it was
not driven like the horses. The emigrant ship came on, in-
creasing in speed, and gaining more and more upon them by the
wide spread of her sails, till they could read the name that was
displayed under her bowsprit, in large letters—The Wanderer.

’ Gradually she came opposite the yacht, then passed, and at
length left them behind, among other vessels that dotted the
surface of the Thames, now a broad arm of the sea. So long as




“Serie tears
Lee eee
BWP ry









, OUTWARD BOUND—THE THAMES, OFF GRAVESEND.



oA








The Water Fairy Sets Out. 27



vessels and boats were near, the boys were never weary of ad-
miring the variety of their rig, or the trim of their sails, and the
girls had almost forgotten their ailments in similar ways. Above
all, the outward-bound ship had kept up their interest, even
between meal times. At last, however, it had withdrawn into
the form of a tower of canvas, gradually fading into a cloud.
Other vessels were far apart, and the nearest shores were indis-
tinct, bristling here and there with the masts of shipping lying
in harbour, like gigantic sedges, with the smoke of the towns
rising beyond. The heave of the water was getting to be more
and more felt, the air came keen from seaward, and the long
light of the summer evening was drawing near an end. By this
time, all were more than ready for bed, so the deck was left to
the crew, and the children were soon unconscious of the yacht’s
progress out to sea, past Sheerness, where the men-of-war lie
thick in the mouth of the Medway, past the famous Light at the
Nore, and at last out of sight of land, and into the open sea.








AT SEA—TREASURES OF THE DEEP.

FITHOUT exception, the children had been sea-sick,
more or less, during the night, although the breeze had
“| never exceeded an ordinary one, nor were the waters
of the open Channel at all rough. Strange to say, however, by
far the worst sufferer was Georgie Simcox, who, whether from
greater lability to the complaint, or from the effect of his stroll
on shore, was still unable to get up out of his berth, or to eat
any breakfast. Frank had been the next in feeling the motion
of the sea; as to the little girls, they soon got over it. Cicely
declared she had not been ill for more than an hour or two,
while Flora and Loo Simcox seemed all the better for it in the



morning. They were quite hungry for breakfast, indeed every-
body, even George, was quite well and hearty by that time. .

What a bright, glorious morning it was, to be sure, and what
a delightful day followed. The gentle breeze was balmy with
the warm breath of the west wind that blew from the land,
over a sea that was merrily sparkling with sunlight. On the
right hand it spread away, bounded only by the sky, where,
Miss Dalby said, the German Ocean extended; and on the left
was the long low line of deeper blue, with here and there a
greenish patch coming out in the light, which was all that now
stood for the land.








Lveasures of the Deep. 29



“That is the coast of East Suffolk, my dears,” said the
governess, after questioning the master of the yacht; “and on
the other side yonder, where no land is to be seen, the nearest
shores are those of Holland and Prussia.” Miss Dalby had
travelled much, and was disappointed that this information
did not quite set the little ones at ease about losing sight of the
firm ground they had been used to.

“At any rate, that’s good old England,” said Mr. Simcox,
heartily ; “and we shal! soon soon see more of it, never fear!”

“If this breeze holds, sir,” remarked Grogan, the worthy
skipper, as he was oftenest called, “we shall do pretty well; we
shall get abreast of Norfolk ere sundown, and have a sight
towards Yarmouth for the young folks. I warrant me they'll
feel lively enough among the fishing craft !”

“We can have some fishing ourselves, though,” said Georgie,
as he came up on deck, having recovered his spirits greatly ;
“its stupid always sailing, unless you fish, or shoot, or do
something.”

Frank knew nothing about fishing, or anything of the kind,
and was rather ashamed of it at first; especially as Georgie was
very generous about lending him lines and hooks, and did his
best to teach him. There was also a gentleman on board with
Mr. Simcox, a friend of his, named Mr. Thompson, who never
was contented without either fishing, or shooting at the sea-
birds, or else, when nothing of that kind could be done, smoking
cigars. Frank soon left off trying, all the more readily because
Mr. Thompson got cross at not catching anything, and, for his
own part, he preferred rather to go with the girls, although



Georgie laughed at that.








30 The Children’s Voyage.



“T wonder anybody can be tired at sea,” said Cicely to him ;
“do come here; if you look down into the water, you can see
such bells and bubbles coming up in the froth; and just see
there how it splashes up in front and makes little rainbows with
the drops!”

“Yonder are people along the sky!” called little Loo, pointing
past the sails in front to the horizon, where several distant
vessels were every now and then appearing and shifting, with
the various colours of the air upon them, “such funny ones—
somebody leaning over and carrying a pail.”

“Tt’s a ship with a side-sail out,” said Frank, running for Mr.
Simcox’s telescope to prove his words; but Cicely and Loo
would have it that the odd-looking figures were what they said.
“There’s an old woman in a grey cloak—and that other's an
Arab chief. Then there’s a pedlar with a pack going into the
clouds !”

The spy-glass showed new wonders, however. Then Alick,
the sailor, drew up sea water in a bucket, and caught little
floating pieces of sea-weed for them, with living creatures about
some, which Miss Dalby took great interest in. She had a
microscope with her, and brought it to let them see how
extraordinary such small creatures were. A little ball, like a
piece of jelly, was put with some of the water into a tumbler,
and in a minute it sent out all round it a number of rays like the
petals of a China aster; looking so like a lovely flower, that even
Flora Simcox was curious about it, while old Betty put on her
spectacles to get a look; and Alick, much to his astonishment,
saw it too. A little speck-like insect was put in after, and
immediately the seeming flower seized hold of it and evidently










Treasures of the Deep. 31



devoured it. “Siccan marvels the deep does contain, to be
sure!” exclaimed Betty, holding up her hands while she gazed.
“Tl ne’er say again but what it’s full o wonders and mercies,
though still ’'m wae to think o how yon poor folk in the
emigrant ship will be getting on.”

« Anyhow, there’s no want o’ life afloat here,” said Alick, who
turned out to be a countryman of Betty’s own ; “there’s plenty 0”
fish, though they won’t rise to the gentlemen’s bait ; there’s the
mackerel-midge already—and that’s a sign the mackerel been’t
far off.” He showed them, as the small waves surged right out
of the green shadow of the sails, that the ripple was more and
more alive with the little fishes he spoke of, almost too minute
to be distinguished, but glittering like silver. The great gulls and
small terns and sea swallows were pouncing aslant at them in
the breeze ; now and then, also, a sharp-nosed gar-fish or sea-pike
shot out in chase of the small fry, with a beak like a bird. This
was what the fishermen called the mackerel-guide, and all
Yarmouth and Lowestoft would be after them in a very short
time. “Pity it’s not herring-harvest time,” added Alick, “ for
then you'd see a stir—the brine all of a blaze with them, and
the nets dragging up gold into the boats! Yarmouth’s all built
by the herrings, one may say, except what the mackerel does,
and the cod. But the herrings don’t come in till the year’s end,
and then we'd be in danger of a gale or two.”

Of this danger, there was no fear to our party, it seemed, as
the strong breezes of the season were past. “ To tell the truth,
though, sir,” said the skipper, touching his hat to Mr. Simcox,
as he walked up to him near the helm that afternoon, “I don't
like the weather. No, its not anything in the shape of a breeze






32 The Children’s Voyage.



I'm afraid of,” explained he, seeing Mr. Simcox look a little
anxious,

Mr. Simcox was a stout, plump, good-humoured little man,
dressing like a smart sailor himself, when in the yacht; but he
did not understand very much about navigation, for which he
trusted chiefly to old Mr. Grogan, the skipper. As for Mr.
Thompson, he professed to be rather more of a seaman than his
friend, and now said, “ Well then, bless me, Grogan, what is it
youre afraid of ; nothing wrong below, I hope?” and he looked
even more anxious than Mr. Simcox.

“Tt’s a calm,” answered the skipper, rather pointedly, “that’s
what it is, sir, and no trifle either.” He clearly thought that
this was a thing which Mr. Thompson would have special
difficulty in getting over; and in this he was right, for before
night came, all that gentleman’s patience was exhausted by the
total loss of the wind that had been blowing. When the sun
went down, the Water Fairy was lying like a log upon the
smooth water, only heaving and dropping on the slight swell,
while every rope and block creaked, the useless rudder jerked,
and the sails flapped so that they had to be drawn together.

Before daybreak, Cicely, who had slept but lightly, from the
ceaseless motion of the vessel, got up to look out of the little.
stern window in the girl’s berth. The moon had been shining, ~
but now went down, and the surface of the water appeared to
be shimmering here and there like phosphorus, owing to some
stir along the water. As she watched, she could see that there
were fishing boats out, not far. away, and that the glimmering
was caused by the nets which they were dragging in wide trails
after them. The dawn had now begun in a long streak, away










Treasures of the Deep. 39



over the open ocean, until, on the side towards the land, it struck
on quite a fleet of these fishing boats, and Cicely could hear
faintly the cries of the fishermen at work. She lost no time in
dressing herself, and ran to call Frank, who slept in the same
place with Georgie. Frank sprang up at once, dressed hurriedly,
and hastened after her to the deck ; but Georgie was far too
lazy to think of joining them. By that time it was full morning,
and never before had they enjoyed suchasight. In some of the
nearest boats they could see the splendid colours of the mackerel,
which were being hauled up in streams, flashing to the sunrise and
dazzling their eyes until they could hardly look at them. At
last, when the fishermen in the two nearest boats seemed unable
to take in more, they evidently thought of offering some for sale
to the people in the yacht. The two boats began to move their
long oars in that direction, trying who would be first. One was
a good deal smaller than the other, and it easily gained the race,
with the help of a red sail which the crew put up. Fine fresh
mackerel were bought for breakfast, and the fishermen made the
‘best of their way homeward, there being a very slight breeze _
in that direction. The Water Fairy, however, had not even a
breath of air in her favour, and was still forced to rock idly

upon the sea.




THE SKIPPERS STORY.

SAN FICELY and Frank were sitting together watching the
mackerel boats rowing back, when Mr. Grogan came

S | up from his own little sleeping berth beside the
steward’s pantry. “Good morning, miss; good morning, master,”

he said, gazing round upon the sky and sea; “any appearance of
the breeze? Come, sir, help us to bring the wind, Master Frank,
whistle away with all your might!”

“What good will my whistling do, Mr Grogan,” said Frank.

“ A oreat deal, master,” replied the skipper, laughing. “ Why,
don’t you know that there is a saying among sailors that if you
whistle the wind comes soon after.”

“But it is not true, surely,” said Cicely.

“Well, all I can say about it is this, that once when I was
aboard a large merchant ship, one of the crew would keep on.
whistling, though against the orders of the captain himself, and
in the end we were lost.”

“Do you mean wrecked, Mr. Grogan?” cried Frank. “Oh
-do tell us about it, please.”

“Well you see, sir, we were returning from a trip to New
Brunswick ; that was when I was quite a youngster, and I was
beginning to think I had quite enough of the sea, and had fairly
made up my mind to stay ashore for the rest of my days, but


The Skippers Story. - 87



things were ordered differently. We had a pretty good passage
out, and all of us had been in good spirits, and hearty ; but it
was very different on our return. We had taken aboard two
new hands before sailing again, born in? New Brunswick they
were, and from the very first moment they put their feet upon
the deck, everything seemed changed. Even when it was stamp-
and-go at the tripping of the anchor, they did their share of the



‘duty as if they had no right to be asked to do such work, and

when we were all shouting out, as well as the strain on the
capstan would let us,

‘Hurrah boys, we're howoward bound,

hurrah, hurrah !’

one of them shouted out ‘Hurrah boys, we're not homeward
bound,’ and somehow our pipe was put out, and more than one
set his teeth and scowled at the ‘blue-nosed Yankees,’ as Nova-
Scotians are called. It’s most astonishing what mischief these
same two surly-tempered lubbers made in a ship, and how they
managed to separate good friends from each other.

“On the Saturday afternoons we had all along been cheerful,
making it a point to drink sweethearts and wives in good style;
and as we had a good number of pretty fairish singers aboard,
we used to have what the Americans call a good time. There
was old Mathews, the best topman aboard, good humoured when
sober, but apt to be rather surly over his grog, so that, knowing
his failing, all respected it or stood aloof from playing any joke
on him of a disagreeable kind. Then there was Walter, another
A. B. who was a good sailor, but who had been rather delicate
all the cruise. We called him the Parson, for he was always
reading his Bible at odd times; but though we laughed at him,




38 The Children’s Voyage.



no one thought of making him out a hypocrite, for it was well
known he had been on the coast of Africa when all the crew
had died of fever, and he was the only one who had escaped
along with the mate. Such a thing was quite enough to sober a
man for a time, and hardened though some of our messmates
were, they contented themselves by calling him Parson; or if
they went any further, it would mayhap be to drone out a hymn
through their nose, as Methodies are supposed to do. But let
me say here, miss and master, that though some folks laugh at
these same Methody people, they do a great deal of good, and
there are among them many honest and upright men, likewise
women, and what's more, youngsters it’s to be hoped. If there
was any one that laughed and made sport of Walter more than
another, it was Mathews; and of a Saturday night he never
failed to have a good deal of fun at the Pargon’s expense. But
at the same time, he allowed no one to make fun except himself.
That was the thing that struck me, even when a youngster, as
being most curious. Well, some time after we left on the home-
ward voyage, Mathews was a little worse than ordinary over his
grog. He had had more than his usual share, for the two blue-
nosed Yankees had handed theirs over to him, being anxious,
as was evident, to secure his good-will. On the Saturday before
that, poor Walter had not been so well, and indeed had been
often confined to his berth ever since we set sail, but now he
was able to be about again, and on this particular Saturday
afternoon he took his place among his messmates.

“*Come along, Parson, tip us a stave,’ sung out Mathews,
from his seat on the biscuit barrel. ‘Give us that old hymn
you hum over, even in your dreams.’








The Skipper’s s tory. 39



“This speech was received by a burst of laughter by most,
more especially by the blue-noses, who haw-hawed like donkies
out on the spree. Being a little worse than ordinary, Mathews
was not content with the laugh as at other times, but insisted
upon having the hymn sung there and then. I think I see
Walter's face now, as he stood up, waving off one of the Nova-
Scotians with his left hand in a grand way as if he was a
worriting fly, and stretching out the other to Mathews, with a
“We've always been good comrades, old boy, and I’d like to
oblige you; and if you're set upon having the hymn, why, PI
give it ye right off, but I claims a fair hearing.’

“*Tn course, says Mathews; ‘silence then, fore and aft, for



the Parson’s hymn, and let me tell you, lads, if one interrupts,
I'll leave my mark on him, that’s all.’

“Walter, he clears his throat, and in his first-rate voice, that
thrilled through you like the whistle from a bo’sen’s pipe of a
morning, he began to sing a hymn, the chorus of which was—

‘I’m bound for the land of Canaan—
Will you go+—will you go?

“There was something about trouble ceasing then, and
friends meeting there, and nothing but happiness in the whole
land. Mathews, with a most solemn face, led off the chorus
himself, waving his hand to one and then another, as if he had
all the invitation to himself. But at the last verse, Walter
made a pause, then changed to a lower key to sing of Him who
would welcome us at the door, and there was the strange look in
his face I had seen before, and even Mathews seemed to be
sobered for the moment. Instead of joining in the chorus, he
held up his hand with a ‘hush mates all,’ but the blue-nosed








40 The Children's Voyage.





Yankees, who had been treating the whole affair as a capital
joke, they burst out with a laugh, and had got the length of
‘T’m bound for,’ when Mathews sprang at one of them, and with
an awful oath, fairly felled him to the ground. ‘You'll know
again that Mathews keeps his word,’ he said. ‘Didn't I say Pd
leave my mark on ye?’

“The other Yankee was about to take his chum’s part, and
got the length of asking Mathews what right he had to keep
order. But Mathews just laughed outright at this; and, says
he, ‘Might, they say, is right, my bo’; and, what’s more, I’m
captain here!’ and he brought his great fist down with a slap
on his sea chest that made the teeth of the bluc-noses rattle in
their sockets.

“ After that, Mathews treated the blue-noses as if they had
been some sort of wild beasts, and not men at all, and so they
vented their spite upon Walter, whenever they durst. We had
been making a pretty good course, and were looking forward
to a good and quick passage, when all of a sudden the weather
changed, and everything went dead against us. For a week we
lay helpless in a calm, and though we all tried to make the best
of our condition, and kept ourselves cheery, it was not for long.
We had been having a laugh over some yarns. Mathews. had
been telling about a calm he had been in, and how they set
themselves to whistle for the wind, and how it had brought it.
One man said he had heard of a crew who did the same, and all
the good it did was to bring on astorm. ‘Come, let us try,’
said another ; ‘I believe in the good old style of things, though
some folk call them superstitions.’ Walter was heard saying
that, for his part, he thought such beliefs were wicked, and




The Skippers Story. 41



something else that I did not catch, for at that moment one of
the Yankees whistled in Walter’s face, and cried out, ‘There!
Tl defy them you speak of, and he whistled away like mad, his
ce mrade joining him. Now it was well known that the Captain,
though the best seaman afloat, was terribly superstitious, and
when he heard the noise, he called out, ‘What lubbers among
you are whistling there? Can’t you see the wind is coming fast
enough without your bringing down a hurricane upon us? But
the Yankees either did not hear, or did it for a brag, I cannot
say which ;. at anyrate, they went on whistling like mad.

“Down came the wind upon us sure enough, and such
a hurricane too; I never saw one to equal it before or since.
We laboured hard to hold our own, and for a time we were pretty
successful. When night came it got worse and worse, and we
were driven helplessly before it with our main and mizen masts
gone, and the fore-to’-gallant mast snapped below the cross-
trees. Most of us had succeeded in getting ourselves lashed to
the rigging, but in the early morning a great sea swept over us,
which took Walter clean overboard. The next moment I saw
Mathews spring over after him, but Walter had sunk before
Mathews could clutch at him. He was dragged back again by
the rope that he had fastened round his waist, but in such a
condition, that at first it was thought he was dead. Nothing
eould be done to restore him, so terrible was the fierceness of the
gale; but in a few hours it lessened, and we were able to cut
ourselves free from our lashings, and to look about us. Two
men anda boy were found to be missing, one of them being a -
Yankee, but Mathews was still alive, though evidently in a
dangerous state.






e

* 49 The Children’s Voyage.





The ship was found to be in such a leaky condition, that it
was considered best to abandon her at once, and put off in the
only boat left us, the Captain thinking that, as we were now in
the regular course of vessels, the chances were we should be picked
up ere long. Mathews was lifted in to the bows, where I was
Set to look after him, but after a short time it was plain his

hours were numbered. ‘Better to have left him in the ship,’
said the other blue-nose, but the Captain heard him, and made
him keep quiet for the remainder of our voyage. Poor Mathews,
he died that afternoon. I was holding a dipper of water to his
lips, when he opened his eyes, and catching sight of the sun
setting in the horizon, he looked hard at the purple and gold and
blue, and said, quite.plain and distinct, ‘I’m bound for the land
of Canaan,—will you go ?”

“And so ends my yarn, young master and miss, , and you'll
see 1t 18 sometimes wiser to bear patiently the condition we are
in, than wish for things we do not know about, troubling the
mighty Maker of all, who rules over the winds and the waves,”






ay
i

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while it lasted, as it did for many hours. The heat

during the day was excessive, so an awning had to be

spread over the quarter deck, which made it pleasanter for those
who could not go up in the rigging, with Mr. Thompson and Mr.
Simcox, with the spy-glasses, to look out for Yarmouth. This
Georgie and Frank were allowed to do, with proper care; and,
as the flood-tide came to float the yacht along for a time, they
at last called down that they saw the sands towards the harbour,
between the light ships, with the white froth of the shoals. Then
a little afterwards, the top of the great spire of St. Nicholas
‘Church and the tall Nelson Column were descried by those
above. Those on the deck, however, could see nothing of all
this, and had to depend on the boys for the information and
description. Yet even from the deck many objects of interest
were visible. There were innumerable vessels of all kinds to
watch, besides several steamers that passed out or in. But the
greatest resource of all was in Mr. Grogan, the good-humoured
skipper of the Water Foury, who considered it his duty to make
up to “the ladies,” as he called them, by all means in his power.
“ Anyhow,” remarked he, “we ain’t bound to time, like a
passenger-smack, and the longer at sea, d’ye see, the better for

health, marm !”




46 The Children’s Voyage.



“Tf only there could be anything seen of the coast,” said
Miss Dalby ; “anything historical, or instructive in any way.”

Flora gave a little toss of her head, as if this did not vex
her. As for old Betty, she cheered them with the promise that
when “the good honest shores of Scotland came in sight, it
would be another story altogether; for there was no want 0’
ken-speckle points to be seen there.”

“Tm a Norfolk man myself, ladies,” said the skipper here,
for the credit of his country, and waved round his broad horny
hand; “there’s been more battles fought here away, on the
water, than you'd suppose. For that matter, just look yonder,
over the north point of the compass at this moment, why, that’s
about the very spot where Admiral Lord Nelson his self was
born and bred! Moreover, I used to hear say that the famous
Robinson Crusoe was well nigh wrecked in a boat, passing the
light-house at Winterton there.”

“Oh dear,” Flora cried, with a little gigeling laugh, “there
never was such a person!” and she looked to her governess for
approval, adding, “It’s all made-up adventures, and I hate these,
for they’re not true.”

“My certy, there you're wrong, lassie, as I can testify,” said
Betty ; “fox he belonged to Fife, where I come from myself, and
his people are there to this day, though their name be Selkirk.”

The good skipper’s face fairly beamed at this proof of his
correctness, while Alick, the Scotch sailor, and his comrades
seemed to catch the words with great satisfaction, But still
more to the delight of all was the gentle return of the breeze,
which began with the change of the tide. It soon put the yacht
in motion again, so as to let the rudder act, and the sails be




Making the Best of a Calm. 47



spread and trimmed, until by evening there was quite enough
of it to be pleasant.. During the night they made rapid progress,
and bent over and ploughed along in rather too lively a way to
be comfortable for everyone. But there seemed no fear of the
calm being followed, as the proverb goes, by a storm. In the
morning they found that they had rounded the coast nicely to-
wards the mouth of the Wash, and were standing direct for the
mouth of the Humber, where Mr. Simcox intended to put in at
the harbour of Grimsby.

“T think, sir,” said Mr. Grogan, as he came along towards
the stern, that day; “I think I would make another tack, if you
please, to fetch more westerly, a little!”

“Very well, Mr. Grogan,” replied Mr. Simcox, trusting as
usual to the skipper, though liking to be consulted. “ Yes, I
think I would.”

“Ready, "bout-ship!” called out Mr. Grogan, in his hoarse
voice, which was like a bull beginning to bellow; “ round with
the cutter again, my lads!” There had been several of these
tackings already, with the sails slanted so as to make the Water
Foiry go almost against the wind, and now it was blowing rather
strongly. Frank had learned to keep out of the way of the men,
while at work, and even Georgie had got a lesson, by having
his leg nearly caught in a running rope; but Mr. Thompson con-
sidered himself above taking such hints, inclining to be rather
crusty if cautioned about it. Just as the great boom of the
yacht’s main-sail was being quickly shifted from one side to the
other, above the quarter-deck, to suit the change of tack—
what is called “ jibbing”—Mr. Thompson, careless of what went
on, happened to jump up on the stern gratings, to look at a large




48 The Children’s Voyage.



vessel that was making for harbour along with them. “Have a
care, sir,” shouted the skipper loudly; “look out, or you'll be
knocked overboard !”

Mr. Thompson turned indignantly round, and at that very
moment the heavy beam went jerking across, leaving him bare-
headed. “Stop the yacht,” cried he, angrily—-“‘ my hat’s gone
—you've knocked off my hat with your awkwardness!”

“ Thank goodness it wasn’t your head, sir,” said Mr. Grogan;
“it was a near touch; not the men’s fault either; just as well
you're no taller !”

It was no use complaining, the hat was already far behind,
and soon sank out of sight. The truth was, Mr. Thompson was
too tall to put himself in the way safely, and showed greater
prudence by putting on a cap, and being a little more careful
afterwards. Everybody else was looking at an inward-bound
ship, as it waited for a pilot lugger that had come out to meet it
at the signals given. The ship was a whaler, from the Polar
regions, as the skipper knew at once from its appearance. He
pointed to a small object hanging aloft from a rope, between two
of its masts, which, he said, after looking through the spy-glass,
was the May-day garland that the Hull whalers were accustomed
to hoist up, wherever they were, on the first of the month, and
carry it home there. It was all made of true lover's knots of
bright ribbon, and there was a little ship in the middle of the
ring.

“T remember once going into Hull, after a whaling cruise,”
said the boatswain, who had been the first to point out the
garland ; “and no sooner did we reach the dock than, as had

been the custom for years, the boys of the town, seamen’s sons


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Making the Best of a Calm. 51



and others, rushed on deck, and, while a great crowd lined the
wharves, the boys scrambled up the rigging, trying who would
be first in the race aloft, to get hold of the prize. It falls to the
smartest little chap among the lot, and it is sure to bode well for
his commanding a whaler himself.”

“We can't have better luck ourselves,” said the skipper,
“than to go into port in her wake!’ The yacht followed the
whaler accordingly, getting advantage of the pilotage besides.

“ Look at the streak she leaves behind her, ma'am,” said the
boatswain ; “one ’ud think the oil oozed astern; and, though
you mayn’t believe it, I’ve known boats to have a smooth sea in
the lea of a foundered whaler, for hours together.”

The gentlemen smiled at this, as if it were but a fable of the
sea. “ Yes, there is truth in it, I believe,” Miss Dalby said;
“experiments have proved that the old proverb is well founded,
about oil stilling the waves. Although the storm is not lessened
by it, yet ib is found by science that the waters, however
troubled, subside within the space where the oil has spread.”

“Ship, ahoy !” Mr. Grogan hailed to the whaler, at Mr.
Simcox’s desire, when they were near each other, off Grimsby
harbour, where the ship had to anchor for the tide. “ What
cheer—what cheer! A full ship, I hope ?”

“ Ay, ay,” was shouted back, gleefully, “a full hold and more,
with seal skins in plenty besides. There’s a curiosity or two
aboard, if the young folks would like to see ’em ?”

“Qh, do let us go, papa 2” cried Georgie, while Flora and
her sister danced round him, coaxing him to accept the invitation.

“ Well, I suppose, Grogan, I shall have to ask you to get out
the boat,” said Mr. Simcox, laughing. “They'll never be satis-








52 The Children's Voyage.



fied unless we let them go.” When the boat was ready, to the
children’s great delight, Mr. Simcox accompanied them himself,
Mr. Thompson preferring to remain behind, as, he said, the rank
smell of the oil was disagreeable to him. Miss Dalby, though
she did not like small boats at all, was too anxious to see the
curiosities to think of herself, and was the first to step down.
Even Betty, after some little amount of flutter, consented to go,
her fears being overcome by her anxiety to see a Polar bear, that
was said to be on board, Sure enough there it was, quite a
young one, and so tame, allowing the children to pat it and feel
its paws. There was also a young seal, a silver fox, and a pair
of Esquimaux dogs, that interested the boys, especially when
they heard that they had been bought from the Esquimaux, and
had pulled ships over the ice. After all the animals had been
duly visited, the captain now showed them the great hold full of
the blubber of the whales, aid explained to Frank and Cicely, see-
ing they were really interested in the matter, how the great whales
are cut up at sea, and the best parts preserved in the hold. He
said it was a great pity they had not time to visit the establish-
ments where they boil down the great monsters. Frank was
desirous to see the whales’ bones, and was surprised. to learn that
the whalebone, used for so many purposes, was not .the actual
substance of the bones of the whale, but is the material of a sort
of huge comb in the mouth of the animal, which assists it in
collecting its food of weeds and small fishes) The whalebone,
being of a flaky substance, is easily split, by a cutting machine,
into layers. Frank was also told that a pithy or horny stuff was
scraped off the surface of the whalebone, which is used instead of
horse-hair: that glue is made from part of the offal, and every-








Making the Best of a Calm. 53



thing that cannot be made use of in any other way is prepared
for manure.

“You see, my dears,” said Miss Dalby, “how the monsters
of the deep are made to contribute to the wants of man in many
ways. It is really refreshing to see how interested you two are
in the wonders to be seen around us.”

“ Ah, marm, there are many,” said the captain, “ who go the
world round with a pair of eyes in their head, but they make as
much use of them as a blind fiddler does. That's right, master
and miss, keep your eyes wide awake, and you'll not repent it,
I'll vouch for it.”










ON THE HUMBER.

oN their return to the yacht, all expressed themselves as
being highly delighted with their visit to the whaler,
> and Cicely went away immediately to deposit the
piece of fine seal-skin the captain had presented her with at




parting. This friendliness on the part of the whaling captain
brought some trouble to poor Cicely. No sooner was she in the
sleeping place, which she shared with Flora Simcox, than the
latter said, “I think the captain might have given me a seal-
skin, also.” é

“Oh, it’s only a small piece of one,” said Cicely ; “just
enough, he said, to make me a pretty pair of cuffs, or a muff.
It really was very kind of him to give it to me.”

“Yes, I dare say,” said Flora, who was troubled with a
covetous disposition ; “ but, seeing that the yacht is my papa’s,
I think he ought to have given it to me.”

Cicely looked at Flora with surprise, with her blue eyes
wide open: she had lived so quiet a life with Frank and Betty
that she had never come into contact with other children, and,
not being of an envious turn, she could not understand Flora’s
speech at all.

“But perhaps you did not tell him you were not our sister—
only a visitor,” said Flora, feeling. the more she looked at the
beautiful piece of fur the more anxious to have it.










On the Humber. 55



“Yes,” replied Cicely, “I did, because he asked me my name;
and when he heard it, he said he knew papa, and had once com-
manded a ship of his. I think that was the reason why he gave
me the fur; or, perhaps, because he found out that I was the
same age as a little daughter of his was when she died—indeed,
he said I was very like her.”

“Well, I think it was very mean of you to take it,” said
Flora, rising to go away ; “and I really think if papa knew he
would be very angry. My advice is, you should throw it over-
board, or, if you like to give it to me, I will hide it for you.”

Cicely was about to comply, when Miss Dalby opened the
door, and Flora passed her, whispering to Cicely—* Don’t speak
about it to her.” But the governess had not only overheard some
of the conversation, but saw by Flora’s manner she was acting in
some sly way. She managed to get out of Cicely what was the
true state of affairs, and relieved the poor little girl’s mind con-
siderably, by saying Mr. Simcox would not be at all angry with
her, but would be very much so at Flora for hinting such a
thing. Miss Dalby further considered it the wisest plan to hand
the fur over to Betty’s care, as Flora was rather afraid of the
worthy woman. “Come up on deck, now,” continued Miss
Dalby. “Mr. Simcox has decided to put into one of the har-
bours. Mr. Thompson, it seems, means to leave the yacht here,
so we may have a good view of the town.”

When they went on deck, Flora gave a quick glance round
at her governess, to see if Cicely had told; but Miss Dalby had
already determined to take no notice of her conduct, for the
present at least, saying to Cicely that there was no use dis-
turbing the pleasant harmony that now existed. Mr. Simcox








| 4
56 The Children’s Voyage.



was looking over a large map, and pointing out to Georgie and
Frank the ravages made by the sea on one side of Holderness.
“See, boys,” he said, “that is a place that used to be of a pretty 4
large extent, but now it is nearly all washed away by the sea;
and lower down there is another, which is said to have been
rescued from the sea.”

“ And see, papa,” said Georgie, “there is the name of a town
given in a place, said to be a part that is now entirely covered
by the sea. I do declare there is another one here.”

“Yes,” said Frank, “and this very small print tells us that
six or eight hundred yards out at sea, opposite the town, is the
site of the ancient church of Aldborough.”

“T wonder if it had a steeple,” said Flora. “It would be
rather dreadful if our yacht stuck upon it, and went twisting
round, as the little gilt ship does on the church near our house



in London.”

“T remember reading somewhere,” said Miss Dalby, after
everyone was done laughing at Flora’s remark, “ that the coast, |
at that part, is washed away at the rate of about four yards
yearly, and it is believed that a whole row of villages has been
destroyed during the course of past ages. The strip of land we
saw at the mouth of the Humber is supposed not to be of a solid
kind at all, but rather a low neck of gravel and sand accumulated
by the sea and the river.”

“Then, does the sea give back what it takes ?” asked Cicely.

“Yes, my dear, in many cases.it does,” said Mr. Simcox.
“ At the broadest part of the Humber, the part called Sunk
Island, is supposed to be an accumulation of sand. It is now an.
inhabited island; but it has been wholly gained from the river,






cates eeeieoe es seat geniac a eer weet enna





COMING INTO THE HUMBER—IISHERMEN ON THE LOOK-OUT.








On the Humber. - 59



by the settling of sand and mud at a particular time of the tide, |
through a long series of years. It is now several thousand acres
of dry land, and is said to be increasing considerably.”

It had been decided to put into the harbour of Goole, to suit
Mr. Thompson’s convenience. As they were sailing up the river,
Frank, who had been looking through Mr. Simcox’s spy-glass,
called out—* Oh, there’s some sailors looking at us with a glass,
too. I can see their faces quite plainly.”

“And see how the spray is dashing up against the pier,” said
Flora, who had got the glass from Frank. ‘“ What can they be
looking out for so earnestly ?”

“Perhaps they are looking at us,” said Georgie. “Tt is not
often, I dare say, that they see such a well-built yacht as the
Water Faury.”

“It is quite ridiculous to hear you talk so of the yacht,
Georgie,” replied Flora; “I am sure there are ever go many nicer
and larger ones to be seen.”

“There may be larger,” said Georgie ; “but I never saw a
better one—never, in all my life.”

““ Well, you have yet to see a great deal my boy? said his
papa; “but keep yourself cool on the subject. In the first
place, the fishermen on the pier are not paying us the slightest
attention, but are looking out for the return of the fishing boats,
which is of greater interest to them, at this moment, than all the
yachts in the world.”

“Ts this all one river?” inquired Frank, of Miss or, ; “and
where is Goole, please ?”

“Qne question at a time, Master Frank, if you please,” said
Miss Dalby, smiling pleasantly.






60 The Children’s Voyage. |

“Oh, don’t you know geography better than to ask such a
question 2” said Georgie. “ Why, isn’t the Humber formed by
the junction of the Ouse and the Trent ?”

“Tam glad you have remembered the lesson you had about
it before we left,” said Miss Dalby ; “ but, as you are so clever,



perhaps you can tell us what river Goole is on, and all about it.”

“Oh, on the Trent, to be sure,” said Georgie, stuffing his
hands into his pockets, and looking round, as if Frank and all
the girls must think him a very sharp fellow indeed.

“You certainly ought to have been sure before you made
such a rash statement,” said Mr. Sinicox, laughing. “Goole is
on the Ouse, at the point where Dutch river joins it.”

“Yes—I forgot—so it is,” said Georgie, somewhat crest-
fallen. “But,” he continued, “the place is of no consequence—
there is nothing remarkable about it—else I certainly should
have remembered.”

“There you are wrong again,” said Mr. Simcox, “if you
mean that Dutch river is not remarkable. It is a wonderful
piece of work.”

“Why do you call it a work, Mr. Simcox? I thought rivers
never were made,” said Frank. ;

“No more they are,” replied Mr. Simcox ; “ but Dutch river
is more like a canal, and is an improved outlet for the river Don.
There is a sad story connected with it, too.”

“ Oh, please tell it to us, Mr. Simcox,” cried Cicely, clinging
to his hand. But Flora, who had not forgiven her little friend
about the seal fur, said, “ No, don’t papa, I can’t bear sad stories,
and I dream about them, and waken up in the night frightened.”

“Well, I ought to have said sad and instructive,” replied








On the Humber. 61



Mr. Simcox; “and really, Miss Flora, you are getting to be very
soft now; yet, some weeks ago, you would have nothing but ghost
stories, though you saw Loo was teally afraid of them. At any
rate, to please Miss Cicely, who has certainly more sense than,
I fear, my little daughter has, I shall relate the story, and if you
like you can walk away till it is ended. Flora decided, how-
ever, to remain, though evidently in a sulky condition, and Mr.
Simcox went on with the story.—

“Well, you must know,” he began, “that in the reign of one
of the Charleses—I think it was Charles IL, if I am wrong
Miss Dalby will set me right—a Dutchman, by name Van
Muden, undertook to make a new channel for the Don. It
was a very circuitous river, and he was to make his new portion
about seven miles in length. It is a very rare thing for the
inhabitants of a district to receive, in a friendly manner, a
foreigner, more especially if it is to affect some of the old usages
of the place. Van Muden. found this out to his cost. We see
now a canal with an ebbing and flowing tide, deep shelving
banks and ample width, all combining to give the appearance of
a natural river, and we cannot help admiring the skill and in-
genuity of the man who made it. He effected all this—but, at
the expense of his peace of mind, his fortune, and in the end his
very life itself.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” said Cicely.“ Did anybody kill him 2?”

“No, not exactly,” said Mr. Simcox, “though, perhaps, it
would not have been so cruel as letting him live on as he did.
It was the opposition he met with in carrying out his able plans;
but, in spite of it, he persevered, spending all his private means
to carry them out, reclaiming thousands of acres of land by










62 The Children’s Voyage.



drainage, and adding another navigable river to the country.
In return for all this, the poor Dutchman first fell into discredit,
then into debt, and perished in gaol. Van Muden, by the terms
of the arrangement, was to receive one-third of all the land he
might reclaim ; and, as fast as there was any, he got some of his
countrymen to come and take possession of the drained land.
Hence the Dutch-looking houses, wind-mills, dykes, and embank-
ments, and the Dutch names of the inhabitants met with in the
district.”

“That must have been some consolation to him,” said Miss
Dalby, “to get his own countrymen round him. But is it
true, Mr. Simcox, that he was knighted? I have read of him as
Sir Cornelius.”

“Yes, I believe he was,” replied Mr. Simcox; “but his
title could not have been worth much to him with such a
luckless fate.”
















ROBIN HOODS BAY.

|HEN Mr. Thompson had been put ashore, Mr. Simcox
| remembered he had an old friend in the town of
] Grimsby, a Mr. Jenner, and he decided to go and pay
him avisit. He took Georgie and Frank with him, while the little
girls were left on board with Miss Dalby and Betty. In a short
time they returned, bringing Mr. Jenner and his eldest son, a
boy about fifteen, and his little daughter, who was nine years
old. No one had felt particularly sorry to part with Mr. Thomp-
_ son, who had been at no pains to amuse anyone except himself ;
even the good-natured skipper had lost his temper at sight of his
selfishness more than once, and had been heard to say that his
room was better than his company.
The moment Mr. Jenner stepped on deck, however, everyone
felt that he brought, as it were, a fresh breeze with him,





and it was quite refreshing to hear his cheery voice and hearty
laughter.

“T do believe if I let go Mr. Jenner’s line he’d not mind it a
bit,” little Loo had said, feeling uncomfortable, even yet, when
she remembered how much Mr. Thompson seemed annoyed when
she had lost one of his best fishing-lines. ‘I’m very glad Mr.
Thompson is gone, he was a cross old——”

“My dear,” interposed Miss Dalby, “it is not considered










64 The Children’s Voyage.



polite to speak against your papa’s guests. Mr. Thompson may
be a little peculiar, but your papa values his friendship.”

“T really cannot understand what papa likes him for,” said
Flora, with a toss of her head. “I do dislike disagreeable people
very much.”

“As if you were so amiable yourself,” said Georgie, who
came past at the time. “If you mean Mr. Thompson, I like him
very much indeed, but he cannot be troubled with girls.”

“You like him because he gave you that knife,” retorted
Flora; “and as for caring about girls, ’m sure I, for one, don’t
in the least mind who he likes.”

“Now, my dears, we will have no more of this,” said Miss
Dalby ; “such conversation is neither profitable nor agreeable.
Did you see any interesting buildings as you passed along,
Georgie ?” ;

“Oh, none whatever,” said Georgie, “it is a stupid-looking
place; and’as for the buildings, I never can be troubled looking
at stupid, old buildings.”

At that moment the yacht gave a lurch, startling everyone in
the cabin, but causing no little amount of merriment to the
whole party. Georgie sprang up on deck to see the yacht cast
off, and the little girls and Miss Dalby soon followed.

Mr. Simcox and Mr. Jenner were laughing heartily at the
efforts some boys in two boats were making to keep up with the
yacht, but, when her sails were all set free, away went the Water
Foary, leaving them shouting and yelling far in her wake.

Mr. Jenner was not long before he was thoroughly acquainted
with everyone on board. It was astonishing how he found out
their peculiarities ; even Betty’s did not escape him, and many a








Robin Foods Bay. 65



talk he had with the worthy woman about her much-loved native
land. And when he happened to be near Miss Dalby, even her
historical lectures were found to be really interesting, for Mr.
Jenner seemed to know all the romantic stories and legends
about the coast, and was not at all particular with the dates, and
who the kings were who reigned at the time. When passing
Scarborough he pointed out the eagle’s nest of a castle on the sea
cliff. “There’s where the Earl of Lancaster beseiged the French-
man, Gaveston, the favourite of Edward IL, who had placed him
in the castle. He stood several attacks bravely, but the pro-



visions in the town failed him and he was forced to surrender to
the Black Dog, as the Earl was called by his enemies. Gaveston,
I believe, was beheaded afterwards, wasn’t he Miss Dalby ?”

“Yes, Mr. Jenner, you are quite right,” replied the governess ;
“it was at a place called then Blacklow Hill, and the king was:
so inconsolable at the death of his favourite that he had the body
interred at a new church at Langly, and with his own hands
placed two cloth-of-gold palls upon his tomb.”

“You are right, ma’am, and this took place (listen, Betty !)
just two years before the famous battle of Bannockburn,” said
Mr. Jenner, with a laugh.

“Qh whist, sir, dinna laugh,” replied Betty. “ An’ you an
Englishman, and canna help feeling what a sad day it was for
England, no to speak o’ them that were killed at the battle 0’
Stirling in the days o’ Wallace. A body wud have expeckit the
English to have had more sense than try it again after the lesson
they got then. But your forbears were aye a covetous set, sir.”

“Well, but Betty you were hot-headed, and were as ready to
covet as we were, if it comes to that.”




66" The Children’s Voyage.



“Oh, PU no deny that much,” said Betty, “but there never
was much glory to be gained by them, for they came down upon
puir Scotland like a swarm o’ locusts; but our reivers had but a
pickle o’ lads in their bits o’ bands, but see how they fought.”

“ Ah, I see Pl never convince you,” said Mr. Jenner, laugh-
ing; “but what do you say about Flodden, Betty? We got the
better of you there.” .

“Oh whist, whist, sir,” said Betty, “dinna speak lightly o’
that day, an’ in the presence o’ the bairns there. If it was a
dark day for Scotland, weel, I wat, England didna escape a’the- -
gither free. An’ to think it was a’ to please the Pope o’ Rome.
He was nothing but a muckle spider, and the poor Scots and
English were the flies, an’ to think that, at his bidding, Scotland
lost the bravest o’ her sons. ‘The flower o’ the forest are a’
wede awa’,’ as the auld song says.”

“Still, Betty, you must own the English got the better of the
Scotch that day,” said Mr. Jenner.

“And nothing to boast of either,” said Betty, fiercely. “It
was the old story over again—three men to one, and who could
stand against such odds? Weel I wat, it wasna for want o’ hard
fighting ye gained the day, but with the Pope at your back, and
treachery, no doubt, somewhere, the victory was nothing to make
a fuss about, to my thinking.”

“Oh, none of us doubt the bravery of the Scotch,” replied
Mr. Jenner, whose policy it was to change the subject, the mo-
ment he saw it was making anyone uncomfortable. ‘We have
many legends in this quarter about them; one, in particular,
about a Scottish sea-chief, named Andrew Mercer, being taken
ptisoner and confined in Scarborough castle. . His son was furi-










Robin Hood’s Bay. 67



ous at this, and though he could not rescue his father he sailed
into the harbour and carried off several vessels.” So pleased Betty
seemed to be with this story, that Mr. Jenner, good-naturedly,
did not tell her that the ships Mercer had taken were recaptured, |
along with others, by a rich London alderman, but allowed her
to sit chuckling over her countryman’s bravery.

The next morning the children were roused early by Tom
Jenner calling out, “If any of you want to see the first of
Robin Hood’s Bay you'd better look sharp.” .

“Why, what’s to see about it?” said Georgie, turning him-
self round sleepily ; but, seeing that Frank was dressing in haste,
he could not resist the impulse to jump up too, more especially
as he heard all the girls were ready to run up on deck. It was
delightful to feel the freshness of the calm morning as the yacht
moved gently across a small bay, and all were glad that they had
mustered courage to shake off sleep, and were soon quite wide
awake. Mr. Jenner helped to drive away the vapours of the
land of Nod, as he said, by singing through Mr. Grogan’s speak-
ing trumpet, “A forester bold, a forester bold, toot-a-hoo!”

Frank was the only one who stood aloof from the merry
group ; he was trying to realise that this was Robin Hood’s Bay,
recalling to mind all the legends Betty had told him of the ad-
ventures of that grand English outlaw. Betty was very good ;
she did not confine herself to the daring deeds of her country-
men, but, as she said, she tried to rouse Master Frank by telling
him of his own English heroes ; for it was not to be expected an
English boy would care to hear about Scotchmen only. Frank
was standing gazing out upon the picturesque rocks, and a wind-
mill, and church spire, seen in the golden light of a summer


68 The Children’s Voyage.



morning. The air seemed to be balmier than ever he had felt
it before ; the sails were fully set, catching the beautiful tints of
land, and appearing to rest awhile as the yacht tacked. and stood
upright before those grey cliffs and green edges of shore above.
“You seem to be in a brown study, Master Frank,” said Mr.
Jenner, coming towards him with Mr. Simcox, who had his spy-
glass under his arm.

“T was thinking of Robin Hood,” said Frank; “is it quite
true that he was often here, Mr. Jenner 2”

“Well, if we are to believe the Yorkshire ballads,” said Mr.
Jenner, “and I don’t see why we are not, they state that when
he was tired of merry Sherwood he would turn fisherman at
times, or, when hard pressed, he fled to the fishing vessels he
kept there, and thus escaped from the grasp of the angry law.”

“But, papa,” said Tom Jenner, “I have read somewhere that
Robin Hood was not a are good sailor, and always suffered from
sea sickness.”

“So have I,” said Mr. Simcox, “but I have no doubt if a
French ship of war had borne down on the Betsy Jane, Robin
would be able to shake off his sickness.”

“Oh, there’s a real story about that, Mr. Simcox,” said
Tom, “for when the master of the little sloop was like to die
with fear, Robin Hood’s rage kindled, and he cried out—

‘Master, tie me to the mast,’ said he,

‘That at my mark I may stand fair ;
And give me my bent bow in my hand,

2)

And never a Frenchman will T spare.

“Yes,” said Mr. Jenner, “and he defeated the Frenchman
into the bargain, and when he and his merry men boarded the





Robin Hood’s Bay. 71



helpless vessel they found ‘twelve thousand pounds of money
bright.’” :

To Frank’s intense delight, Mr. Simcox ordered Mr. Grogan
to sail a little closer to the shore, and, on passing Whitby, Mr.
Jenner pointed out the ruins of Whitby Abbey, from the tower
of which Robin Hood and his tall lieutenant, Little John, after
they had been entertained by St. Hilda’s monks, gave, at the
request of their hosts, a proof of their skill with the bow.”

“Can it be true that their arrows fell nearly three miles off?”
inquired Mr. Simcox. |

“Certainly,” replied Mr. Jenner, “for there are two upright
stones placed as marks where the shafts fell.”

“Tt was so sad to think he died such a terrible death,” said
Miss Dalby ; “with all his faults, one cannot help feeling sorry
for him.”

“ Just look at Miss Cicely’s face,” said Mr. Jenner, laughing;
“she thinks him a perfect hero, I'L be bound.”

“Oh, he was so brave and generous,” said Cicely; “I wonder
if we shall see anything of the place where Robin Hood’s wicked
old aunt confined him and treacherously: oh, 1 cannot speak
of it, it is so horrid ; but wasn’t it delightful that he remembered
his bugle horn just in time.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Jenner, “it was very fortunate, and that he
had still some strength left to open the casements and ‘blow out
weak blasts three.’

Then Little John said, hearing him,

As he sat under a tree,



‘I fear my master is near dead,

He blows so wearily,’






72 The Children’s Voyage.



So faithful Little John, tightening his belt, flew to the priory,
and, after breaking locks and bolts, reached his master and saw
that he was dying.”

“And even at the last,” said Mr. Simcox, “he was gentle
under foul wrong; for when Little John wanted to burn Kirkless
Hall and the Nunnery, Robin said—

‘I never burnt fair maids in all my time,
Nor at my end shall it be ;

But give me my bent bow in my hand,

And a broad arrow I'll let flee ;

And where this arrow is taken up
There shall my grave digged be.
“Now,” said Mr. Jenner, “if Master Frank had not been so
earnest and interested we should not have heard so much about
the forester bold. But see, Mr. Grogan is doing his best to bear
us away out of sight of this classic spot, and I agree with the old

ballad about Robin Hood—

209

‘Such outlaws as he and his men,
‘Wil England never see again,’”














IN DANGER.

s|ETER passing Robin Hood’s Bay and Whitby, the
: Water Fairy stood out to sea for a good run along
Eee] the coast. The weather was everything that could be
wished, and the children not only enjoyed the strong sea air, but
were getting to be quite strong and healthy again. Betty said
their cheeks were like roses in June; but she was somewhat
put out when Mr. Simcox replied that they were rather of a pale
China kind still. “Oh,” retorted Betty, “it’s not often, sir, that
you see children belonging to London with any colour whatever;
but wait a little till they snuff the caller air of Scotland, and I'll
warrant they'll be red enough.”



Now that Mr. Jenner, and his son and daughter were on
board, it was a much happier time for the little Hamiltons.
The Jenners were intelligent children, fond of reading, and with
sharp observing eyes in their heads ; indeed, as Mr. Grogan the
skipper said, nothing escaped them. Little Mary Jenner, too,
had such a sweet, amiable disposition, that it was easy to become
acquainted and intimate with her, and Cicely, who was always
backward with strangers, did not feel in the least shy towards
her, but, from the very first, chatted away with her, as if she
had known her all her life.








74 The Children’s Voyage.



“T really think, Betty,” said Cicely to her nurse, “that my
little sister Mary would have been just like Mary Jenner. I felt
quite as if she was my sister the first moment I saw her.”

“That's no’ to be wondered at, my dear,” said Betty. “Like
draws to like, they say, and ‘birds o’ a feather flock together.”

“But I am not at all like Mary Jenner, Betty,” said Cicely.
“She has such pretty blue eyes, and lovely fair hair, and mine is
as black as a crow ; and then she is not at all shy.”

“That may be,” said Betty ; but, for all that, you are like
her in some things.” |

Flora had also been quite charmed with Mary, and went
skipping about the deck with her arm twined round her little
visitor's waist. She was delighted to find that Mary had never
been on board a vessel before, and very readily undertook to
show her all over the yacht; but when it came to explaining
things about the working of the ship, Flora said, “Oh, that’s
only for the sailors and boys to know, but not for girls to trouble
themselves about.”

“ But, Flora,” said Mary, “ Papa says he thinks that whatever
interests boys, ought to be interesting to girls also; although
there are some games and sports not suitable for girls, that we do
not care about, and we have special ones to please ourselves.”

“ What things do you mean 2?” said Flora.

- “ Well, there’s fishing, you know,” said Mary; “boys are very
fond of that, but it is not a nice. sport for girls.”

Now Flora was very fond of fishing with a line, and used to
laugh at Cicely for shuddering and running away when any fish
were caught, because she could not bear to see the poor things
wriggling about. Flora, on the other hand, was not the least








ln Danger. 75



afraid, and would even pull the hooks out of their mouths herself.
She was therefore somewhat put out when she heard Mary’s
opinion.

. “That is one of the things I cannot understand about Tom,”
Mary continued ; “‘he is so tender hearted, and so gentle and
kind to the little ones at home. Though boys never care to play
with dolls, and keeping doll’s house, he will do it ever so long,
especially on a wet day, when the children don’t know what to do
with themselves, and nurse is busy; and he is so obliging about
his long legs, and takes such care to have them doubled up, if
possible, to be out of the way. But he is such a keen fisher, and
thinks nothing of killing ever so many.”

“ But all boys are alike about that,” said Flora. “Oh, no, I
forgot,” she went on, “ there’s Frank Hamilton, he does not like
to kill the fish himself, and always gets Georgie to take off those
that come to his line.”

“T only wish our Georgie would play with us,” said Loo.
“He doesn’t think it manly to play with girls, though he is often
glad to have us bowl to him when he is playing cricket, and has
no one else.”

“Oh, Loo,” said Flora, “you know Georgie is sometimes very
obliging, and plays with us-when we keep a shop.”

“Yes, when we keep a shop he doesn’t mind joining us; but
its only that he may eat up all the things we sell him. He
always ends in making either you or me cry afterwards, and so
I'd rather not have him.”

“T gay, girls,” cried Tom Jenner at this moment, “do you
see we are nearly out of sight of land. Do come up, it looks so



queer.”










76 The Children’s Voyage.

Tom helped his sister up on to the erating that ran across the
stern, and held her there till she looked all round. The vessel
rushed along, making a liquid sound in her rapid passage through
the water. Her great main-sail was swollen out against the
rigging, to a vast hollow, by the force of the invisible wind ;
stretching beyond the stern, and overshadowing the waves for
furlongs on the other side. Past it, above the bow, between the
sharp fore-sail and the solid mast, heaved green ridges of the sea
in front, changing in the distance to a pale blue. Within a mile
or two of the horizon came a fleet of distant sloops, in full sail,
taking advantage of the slight breeze, to stand in for some
opposite port; while a white sea-bird or two, hanging with
wings aslant in the grey atmosphere, looked ghastly and ocean-
like.

“Oh, how beautiful!” cried little Mary, clapping her hands.
“See, Tom, they look like fairy boats. What makes them shine
and change to all sorts of colours ?”

“Ah, you must ask Miss Cicely, here,” said Mr. Simcox,
coming forward. “She is quite an authority where fairies are
concerned.” Mr. Simcox, -however, was interrupted by Mr.
Grogan, who stepped up to him to say something in an under-
tone about a squall brewing, which made Mr. Simcox change his
laughing mood to one more solemn. ‘ My dears,” he said, “ Mr.
Grogan wishes me to send you all below, and at once, too; his
experienced eye shows him something in the sky and waves that
we cannot trace, and he considers it necessary to be careful. So,
down below, all of you.”

“Oh, papa, let me stay,” said Georgie; “I could help
famously, and I am not at all afraid of storms.”






[n Danger. 77



Mr. Simcox looked at Mr. Grogan, but the slight pucker of
the worthy skipper’s lip showed him that it was best to make no
exception. Tom Jenner had looked as if he, too, would have
liked to stay; but when Mr. Simcox replied, “No, my son, I
prefer that all should go below,” Tom was the first to show the
example. ‘Come on girls,” he eried, cheerily, seeing that they
were beginning to look frightened ; “I dare say we shall all be
quite jolly down below.”

Georgie, however, began to cry, and insisted that, as he was
going to be a sailor sometime, he ought to be allowed to stay on
deck ; but Mr. Grogan, losing his temper, took him firmly by the
arm and. led him to the companion-way, saying, “If youre going
to be a sailor, young master, the first thing to learn is to obey
orders, and not to pipe your eye on any account.”

No sooner were they all safely down than the moveable hood
of the cabin stairs was drawn over and fastened securely.
Georgie had by this time fairly given way to temper, and he
began to kick at the cabin door with all his might, calling Mr.
Grogan all sorts of hard names.

“T tell you what Georgie,” said Tom, “the skipper was in
the right; there is wind and rain coming, and plenty of it, too,
not to speak of spray., Depend upon it, we are in some danger,
else we would not have been shut down quite so early. They
will require all the room to handle the yacht by-and-by.”

Seeing that his speech had scared, not only the little girls,
but Miss Dalby and Betty also, Tom set himself to cheer them
up. “No cause to be afraid about it though,” he continued.
“Papa knows the coast here very well, and so does Mr. Grogan,
and forewarned is forearmed you know. Come, Frank, let us




78 | The Children’s Vi oyage



get up some game we can all join in. What do you say to give
puzzling questions in geography? Miss Dalby will, perhaps,
help us.”

As there seemed to be nothing going on above to cause them
unnecessary fear, the little girls entered heartily into the plan.
Georgie sat in a corner, and sulked and gloomed to be sure, but
they very properly took no notice of him; and even Betty be-
came quite interested, especially when the puzzle questions were
given about Scotland ; and though she did not know much of
the geography of her native land, and made many absurd mis-
takes, she had many remarks to make about the things that the
places named were famous for, and especially if any great battles
or stirring events had taken place there.

As the day advanced, however, the sea began to get so rough
and disagreeable that Loo and Cicely were glad to allow Betty
to lay them in bed. Then Miss Dalby lay down, and though
Flora fought bravely against it, she, too, was forced to own she
felt queer. Mary Jenner was all right, so were Frank and Tom,
but poor Georgie was so sick that he was forced to tumble into
his sleeping berth anyhow.

The children afterwards spoke of it as a complete storm, and
it was alarming enough to them, though the sailors laughed, and
called it a mere puff. The vessel leant over, and balanced up
again in a very trying way; the furniture tumbled about; the
dash of the sea was loud and weltering on the cutter’s side; the
feet of the crew were heard tramping hastily overhead ; coils of
rope were flung heavily down on the deck; while they all had
great difficulty in keeping from tumbling out of their berths.
Outside, too, the scene was rather a wild one. Tom Jenner had









Ln Danger. 81



caught a glimpse when the door was opened for a minute by Mr.
Simcox, anxious to ascertain if they were all right. The deck
was dreary, dripping with salt surge, the large sail down, and
the yacht driving on under one square low sheet of canvas, and
a jib stretching towards the bowsprit. But the trim-built Water
Fury, after rising slowly on an angry sea, and ploughing for-
ward into the clouds of spray that came over her head, shook
herself free from it, and skimmed along like a bird. There was
afew moments of great anxiety when the captain, at the helm
himself, stood looking weather-beaten but firm against the
driving scud, with all eyes turned to him ready to obey his
orders. They were trying to weather a point round by a small
lighthouse on the coast, near Blyth Nook, when they would be
able to run in, and lie at anchor till the gale blew itself out.
There was a moment when the wind blew so strong, and seemed
to press against the yacht, as if determined to bar her further
progress, and prevent her gaining the desired haven. Had one
rope or block given way, all might have perished, and the yacht
been dashed against the rocky and dangerous coast. But, the
crew being all experienced and steady men, in a short time the
desired object was successfully gained. They rounded the point,
with full room to pass clear of the rocks ; then, passing the light-
house, they ran into a safe shelter in the mouth of an inlet, when
the anchor was dropped, and soon brought the yacht to a safe
stop.

What a change was instantly felt by all. The Water Fairy
lay in the little cove as quietly as if no storm or gale was raging
outside, and, so steadily did the yacht ride at her anchor, in a
very short time everyone was out of bed again, and up on deck,






82 The Children's Voyage.



quite anxious to hear and see what had caused such a delightful
change. They were surprised to find they were close to land—
so close, indeed, that they could see and hear some fishermen
who were shouting and calling to them from some rocks by the
shore.

“Ay, but they’re grand things thae lighthouses,” said Betty ;
“many a life have they saved forbye ours. And, bairns, it’s to
’ be hoped you'll keep some 0’ your pennies to help to build plenty
more ; for if it hadna been for this one where would we a’ hae
been this day ?”

Betty, from the first, had given all the praise to the light-
house, and though she most heartily agreed with Miss Dalby
that it was owing to the mercy of God they were saved, she
always added— Ay, He guided us to that lighthouse that awful
day, which was the means of saving us from a watery grave.”


















weather being warm, though the sea outside was too
rough for them to think of leaving their anchorage for
the present—the conversation turned upon lighthouses ; and, see-
ing the children were all interested in the subject, Mr. Grogan
said he would relate a story connected with a lighthouse for their
benefit. Accordingly he began the following thrilling narrative





of what had once befallen himself :—
“Well you must know, young ladies and young masters like-



wise, that I was returning from a pretty long trip on the African
coast in the good barque the Dolphin. We had had good
weather and a fairish run, and were beginning to think we should
soon be at home among our friends once more, when the weather
changed just as we entered the Hnelish Channel. We held on,



however, but when not far off Plymouth the gale increased and
blew a perfect hurricane. To make matters worse, our captain
was not a sober man by any means, and had just commenced
one of his drinking bouts, along with the second mate. The
mate, who was as good a seaman as ever stepped, we could fully
rely on; but at times the captain would come on deck and counter-
mand all the mate had got done, and had once or twice nearly










84 Lhe Children’s Voyage.



got us into danger. We were all hoping that the captain would
drink more than usual this time, and so be unable to come on
deck at all. And it’s my opinion that the steward, being a
coward, plied him with drink for that very purpose. We were
making the best of it, as I said, when one day up comes the
captain, and seeing that some of the canvas was close reefed, he
flew into a terrible passion, and ordered everything to be changed.
The men looked dogged, and if the mate had but held up his
little finger they would have refused to obey the captain; but
the mate was true blue, and it was, “obey orders if you break
owners” with him, whatever might be the consequences.

“Tt had been desperate thick weather from the time we began
to enter the Channel, with fits of driving rain; indeed, it could
not well be said that we knew we were in the Channel at all,
except for the worthy mate's care in working up the reckoning
when the captain neglected it. Of the two, in fact, even when
the captain was sober, 1 do believe the mate had more know-
ledge of navigation.

“*Channel be blowd!’ said the captain—looking into the
compass and then giving a furious slap of his hand on the
nearest thing, as his manner was—‘ we're not in the Channel at
all; we're on the open sea off Cape Clear. Set that foresail
again, I tell you, and shove her faster ahead!’ he said.

“Now this was nonsense, as everybody could see but him-
self, for not lone before we had made what we took to be the
Scilly Lights, which are off Land’s End. It was thick now, as I
told you, so that all that could be depended upon was the
reckoning, and no pilot was to be seen as yet.

““Tm very far mistaken,’ says the mate, pointing his hand






The E:ddystone Lighthouse. 85



ahead of us, ‘if the Eddystone Lighthouse be not somewhere
yonder—if we could only have a break through the mist.’

“The captain’s scorn of this idea amounted to perfect rage,
and the words he used were such as could not be repeated. But,
just as if Providence had meant to reprove him in mercy, scarce
a minute or two had passed before the mist began to clear, and
the moon, that had been rising meanwhile, broke through the
clouds. We had not looked long ere we could make out a light
not far from the very direction where the mate had pointed, and
it soon proved to be what he had said, namely, no other than
the famous Eddystone.

“We were all right then, except as to the force of the
weather in standing up for Plymouth. The captain’s folly was
of no further use, for the men did not heed him more than a
child, and he knocked under at once like a bladder that has been
pricked. So far as I was concerned though, I was not done with
him, having good reason to recollect the course he had steered.
The gale came harder than ever as the barque passed the Eddy-
stone, indeed it was touch and go with her to clear the rocks
safely, where the lighthouse stands. She did clear them, though,
getting safe to Plymouth in the end; but in passing by she
shipped a heavy sea which washed the decks and swept away
the cook’s caboose with two men hanging on to it for bare life.
One was the cook himself, and the other was me, that now tells
the story. The ship was gone, no chance of her picking us up,
and the poor cook was soon after lost for good. Whether he let
go his hold of his caboose—which he knew well by hand mark—
or whether he and it were drifted off together, I cannot say.
For my part I had caught a sight of the lighthouse again, right






86 The Children’s Voyage.





to leeward of me, and I struck out boldly, resolved to swim for
my life.

“Tt was winter at the time, but though the sleet had been
resting on the rigging of the ship, and bitter cold it was on the
drifting caboose, yet right in the water I felt none of it; in fact,
IT was all a-glow between the salt brine and the love of life, and
‘I reached the rocks, or rather, I was washed up senseless among
the seaweeds. I must have held on like grim death, for I found
myself all safe in the lee of the building as the tide fell, There
I lay till near morning when one of the men in the lighthouse
came down the outer ladder, found me lying there, and I was .
taken in and cared for.”

» © What things seamen do go through, to be sure,” said Mr.
Jenner.
“> “And never say anything about it, either,” remarked Mr,
‘Simcox, “till something or other draws it out.”

“How cold you must have been, Mr. Grogan,” said Cicely ;
& “how glad you would be to find yourself in the lighthouse.”

“That I was, miss,” replied the skipper; .“and I'll tell you
that-1 never see a lighthouse lamp but it first sends a shiver
through me, and then a feeling of gladness ; for that awful night
comes up to mind painfully distinct at times.”

““T cannot understand how men can be sailors when they

Bake to suffer such privations,” said Miss Dalby.

And they are often wrecked,” said Mary Jenner, “ and yet _
“they go to sea again and again.”

~~: “And a good thing for you, Miss,” said Mr. Grogan, laugh-
ing; “where would you get your sugar and tea from if there
were no-sailors, I should like to know?’
wn
pb
°
a
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oi
5
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a
Ba
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9
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5

E.






Lhe Eddystone Lighthouse. 89



“I think it must be far worse to be a lighthouse keeper,”
said Tom Jenner. “How dreary it must be in the long,
dull winter nights, especially when the wind is howling round
it. Surely the poor fellows must be nearly mad with fear lest
they should be swept away.”

“But a lighthouse is never swept away, surely,’ said Frank
Hamilton.

“Well, that same Eddystone once was, my boy,” said Mr.
Jenner. ‘The present one that Mr. Grogan has been telling us
about is not likely to give way, as it is welded into the rock and
has become like a portion of it. It is a round tower of stone
shaped much like a tree growing out of the rock. In the tower
are a door and windows, and a staircase and ladders for ascending
to the lanterns through the rooms of those who keep watch.
All the rocks are covered at high water, so that it was a for-
tunate thing for Mr. Grogan that he was pitched up just when
the tide had ebbed, and that he was taken in before it flowed
full again.”

“But you have not told us about it being swept away,
papa,” said Mary Jenner; “Ido hope there was no one in it at
the time.”

“The first lighthouse on the Eddystone rock,” said Mr.
Jenner, “was built by a Mr. Winstanly, who was a native of
Essex and had a great mechanical turn. His work was begun
and completed in four years; but while some repairs were being
made under his inspection the building was blown down in a
terrible hurricane during the night, and he and his workmen
perished. Not a trace of them or it remained behind but some
iron stanchions and a chain.”










90 The Children’s Voyage.



“That must have been a brave man, indeed, who thought of
building it up again,” said Frank.

“Tt may surprise you to hear then, Master Frank, that the
next to try it was a silkmercer, by name Rudyerd. His want of
experience was made up by the assistance of two shipwrights
from the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich.”

“Two ship-carpenters!” cried Georgie—* what good could
they do 2”

“A great deal,” replied Mr. Jenner, “seeing that Rudyerd’s
lighthouse was entirely constructed of wood, except a few courses
of stone on the rock.”

“Oh, but of course 2 was washed away,” said Georgie.

“Not at all,” said Mr. Jenner. “Rudyerd performed his
work in a masterly manner, and so as to perfectly answer the
purpose for which it was intended. It was destroyed by fire,
unfortunately. There is no fear of the present one, however, for
it is sufficient to immortalize the name of the architect and
engineer, John Smeaton, by its great beauty and strength.

“Still, for all that, Iam glad I am not a keeper of a light-
house,” said Tom Jenner again. “I like to read about them ~
very much, but that is quite enough to my thinking.”

“And to be saved by them, as Betty would say,” said Mr.
Simcox. .“ Now you youngsters had better get to bed, for, if
the weather is favourable, we mean to make an early start
to-morrow, and have a good, long run before night. We hope
to see your native shores by that time, Betty,” he continued,
turning to the worthy woman, “so get your young ladies off to
bed at once.”










OVER THE BORDER.

é| HILE Betty was busy helping the little girls to undress,

boys’ room. ‘Oh! something must be the matter with
Frank” cried Cicely, “that was certainly his voice. Oh! run,
Betty, run!”




Cicely was half-way across the little saloon floor before
she knew what she was doing; but the gentlemen had heard
the scream also, and had hastened to the little sleeping place.
There they discovered the unfortunate Frank, blood stream-
ing from his nose, and his face as white as a sheet. He
kept, trying to say it was only an accident, being anxious to
conceal the true cause, which, however, had to be told. Tom
had been making fun with Georgie about being so sick during
the gale. Frank had been standing by, not joining at all in the
sport, but had laughed heartily at some witty remark of Tom’s.
Georgie, annoyed at this, flew at Frank and struck him in the face,
causing his nose to bleed. At first it was thought a mere trifle,
and Frank, after his nose had been bathed, said he felt all right
and was put to bed, when he soon fell asleep. The next
morning, however, he did not seem to be at all well, and was
glad to be allowed to lie still. Cicely was much concerned for
her brother, and at first was quite cross with Georgie, but when
she saw how distressed he was, she relented somewhat, and even






92 The Children’s Voyage.



allowed him to carry in a portion of the invalid’s breakfast.
Mr. Simcox had given his son a good lecture the evening before,
and Georgie, having, with all his faults, some good points about
him, was really ashamed of himself, and determined to make up
for his misconduct to his father’s guests, by better behaviour in
future. Frank, too, did not feel altogether free from blame, and
was ready to own that he ought not to have laughed; and he
made up his mind to bear his confinement in bed and the
headache with patience. Sceing how amiable every one was
trying to be, Betty exerted herself to make the children feel as
comfortable towards each other as possible. She had never told
such delighful stories as she did that day while sitting by Frank’s
bed. All the children gathered close round the door, or sat on
lockers or anything handy, where they could hear the sound of
her voice. Most of Betty’s stories were of her own young days,
and they were all “quite true.” Stories out of Betty's head were
good, but her true ones were much better, only it was not often
she would speak of herself. But when she could be induced
to do so, even the well known beginning used to make Cicely
happy. “I mind when I was young,” was the usual introduction
to her true stories. “Once upon a time,” was generally the
commencement of her imaginary ones.

Tt came on rather a showery forenoon, but no one wanted
to go up on deck. Betty had already told several of her best
stories “out of her head,” including one about a ghost, when, all
of a sudden, when no one was expecting it, she began, “ Aye an’
we're to land at Berwick they tell me. I mind when I was
young, the first visit I paid it, and I’m no so likely ever to forget
it if I live for ever and a day. Obhone, no.”






—

Over the Border. 93



“Oh, why Betty ?” cried Cicely; “do tell us about it ;’ while
all again prepared to listen. Even Tom Jenner, who had never
heard any of Betty’s stories, felt something special was coming,
and tucked his long legs up “a la Turk” as he called it, and
declared he was ready to sit and listen all day.

“T mind when I was young,” said Betty—taking off her
spectacles and polishing them slowly and impressively with her
blue checked apron, the pause making each one feel as if a deep
gulf separated, that time from the present—*I had gone to pay
my aunty May a visit, and she was stopping at Berwick then, by
the shore. She had three children, all of them older than I was.
The two oldest were boys, but the youngest was a girl, and they
called her Lizzie. She was some years younger than the boys,
my aunt having lost two children, and because of this, and being
a girl, my uncle just fairly spoilt Lizzie. My heart was sore at
leaving home, for I was very happy there, but I was a spinty,
delicate, bit o’ a thing, and the doctor had ordered me off for a



change of air. Bairns, I would have ye learn to be kind to
visitors and strangers, for, let me tell you, what is considered a
fine change to some is anything but that, if they're no treated
kindly. It had been the rule in my father’s house that, if we
had strangers living with us, we must give in to them in every-
thing, no matter whether we thought them absurd or no; for, as
my father would often tell us, the very wild Arabs treated their
visitor with particular hospitality. But my cousin Lizzie had a
very different up-bringing, and, visitor or no visitor, she had to
have her own way, willy nilly. Her brothers, Tom and Willie,
were nice enough laddies, and I cannot but say they were very
kind to me at times, but they sometimes played off their jokes








94 The Children’s Voyage.



upon me, for they found it was better to meddle with me than
with Lizzie. Her, ‘I'll tell my father,’ made them stop their
pranks directly, for they were afraid of him, and he did hit them
hard, being of a passionate disposition.

“Well, not far from the house there was an old ruined castle,
and in the court yard an old well that had been empty for years.
We could see the gleam of water at the bottom, but it was only
a shallow spring, and often there was only a little trinkle left.
We had been told never to play near it, or about the castle walls,
for they were crumbling fast, and some of the stones had fallen
upon a man a short time before; but just as if Lizzie had the
spirit of mischief in her, no sooner was her father’s back turned
than she insisted upon going to the castle to play. To get rid
of her noise, my aunty would bid the boys go with us, saying it
was all havers if we were careful ; and she could not bear to hear
the lassie cry. We had played there for ever so many days, and
every morning it was just a settled thing to set off to the old
castle the moment my uncle was out of sight.

“Lizzie had got a beautiful ball from her father, who had been
at some country market, and he was mindful to bring me a pretty
string of blue beads at the same time. We took them with us,
the very morning after we got them, to our favourite place by
the castle, and a fine game the four of us had with the beautiful
ball, on the green grass which was called the lawn. I was
pitching it to Tom when it went over his head, and sprang off
and popped into the deep dry well. I'll never forget the passion
Lizzie put herself into; it was most terrible to witness. It was
no use to offer her my bonnie bead necklace. She at first scorned
it, then tore it off my neck and sent the beads flying here, there,








Over the Border. 95



and everywhere; then stood stamping and roaring, and even
tried to bite Tom with her teeth when he wished to soothe her.
‘I want my ba’! Pll hae my bonnie ba’,’ was all her ery, and
seeing the laddies were frightened for fear of their father, I cried
out, ‘Aweel, haud your tongue, and [ll get yé your ba’

“Tt was no wonder the laddies looked at me, but I had a
daring spirit, and I showed them that if they would help me to
bring the long bit of rope that was in the barn, and tie it round
my waist, ’d go down and get the ball. In the middle of it all,
I could no help thinking, what an ugly, hateful thing, a selfish
child was. Here Lizzie stood, old enough to have plenty of
sense, but so wrapt up in her own self, that she did not mind
although I risked my life if she only got her ball.

“The boys did try to stop me, but seeing my mind was
made up, the rope was got, and with the help of a tree near
they lowered me down. The rope was a little too short and I
cried to the boys to let it out to the end, so they unfastened it
from the tree, but in doing this they let go their hold, and
down I went into the water. I can’t tell you what I felt bairns.
There was very little water in the well as I said before, but
enough to soak me, for after a time I had to sit down for weak-
ness, and when night came on, and no body near me, I can tell
you it was dreary enough.”

“But why didn’t your cousins get you out,” cried Georgie.

“Just because they were cowards, Master Georgie,” said
Betty. “They were afraid of their father, and so they made up
a story how I had lost Lizzie’s ball in the river, and that I
was afraid to come back and had run away home. It was not
a very likely story, seeing that I lived in Fife, but the simple












96 The Children’s Voyage.



folks believed it, and sent a man on horse-back for ever so far
along the road they said I had taken, to fetch me back, ‘The
other roads were searched too, but it was not till the next morn-
ing that my whereabouts was discovered. It would take hours
to tell you of all the things I thought of and the fear I was in,
and the wonder was I did not go crazy. But sleep came to me
at last, and so I forgot my troubles.”

“But how did you get out?” cried more than one voice.

“Well, you see the boys they slept in a bed in the servant's
room, and the servant she heard them speaking about me, and
wondering what I would be doing; and Tom he began to cry
and said—‘Oh Betty will die if we don’t get her out, and her
ghost will come and haunt us.’

“Then the servant listened, and she heard Willie say they
would get a new long rope and haul me up with it; and she
made them tell her all about it, and in a very short time she had
all the men about the place turned out, and they lowered a
ladder and had me taken up. I was ill with a fever for months
after that, and for years on end I was a sickly child, so you see
children I have reason to mind my first visit to Berwick.”

The Water Fairy now made a fine pleasant run from Blyth
Nook, where she had taken shelter, and, passing round the cele-









brated Holy Island, of historic fame, she arrived in the course of
the afternoon at the mouth of the river Tweed, where a day or
two had to be spent.

Here, as is well known, England is separated from the northern
kingdom by the classic stream of Tweed, which finds it way to
the sea in a lovely little bay. Inside, on the southern bank, is
Tweedmouth, a small harbour town, and on the northern shore












Over the Border. 97



is the memorable little town of Berwick, with the remains of its
old fortified walls and green moated castle. The two towns
are connected by a long narrow bridge, and altogether the place
was full of interest to the whole party. There was a queer,
quaint mixture of old and new, and of things and people from
the two countries. There was an old fashioned fair or market
just ending at the time, and grey Border shepherds, followed by
their dogs, were mixed up with coasting sailors, fishermen in
long boots shining with fish scales, soldiers from the garrison,
and Northumberland and Yorkshire drovers. The harbour was
full of funny little sloops, luggers, and boats; then there were
the salmon-fishers, who were hard at work with their nets and
boats, as.the tide made in the evening. There was a long stone
pier on the Berwick side, and when the party strolled.out to the
end of this they were almost in full view of the German Ocean.

It was the loveliest evening they had had since they left
home, the smell of the sea, through the seaweed about the pier,
came sharp and exhilarating. Round the bay, toward the
northern coast, there were delightful looking coves under the
rocks, where great shaggy stones stood out from amidst the
gurgling tide ; with slopes of the smoothest sand, all sparkling
with shells, where Tom Jenner said it would be jolly to bathe.
Everything looked bright and golden in the setting sun, the
very shadows being transparent. The water, as it swelled and
pulsed along the pier, took a golden reflection from the sky, and
threw it up on the faces and figures of the lads and boys who
were fishing for codlings and “ podlies” from the edge.

“Wouldn’t you think they were catching goldfish?” said
Cicely to Mary Jenner.








98 The Children’s Voyage.



“Yes, and they look so bright and happy themselves,” said
Mary, “you might think some of them were gilded over.”

Mr. Jenner made them all laugh by saying it was the fiery
effect of their own yellow hair; all Scotchmen being supposed
to have hair of that colour, if not red. Betty, you may be sure
was not a little put out at this statement, and resented it as far
as she dared by saying, that “There was as many black-a-vised
men in her country as ever there were in England, if not more ;
and for that matter she could not see what folk got to laugh at
in red hair; it was as good a colour to her thinking as black or
white.” Not that Betty would allow these fishermen to be her
own country folk, for, as she said,—‘ Berwick was neither Scotch
nor English, but a Royal Borough by itself, prbevongig to what
she called the ‘common good.’”

Fortunately Betty’s ire was not very dreadful at the worst,
and, feeling herself so close to her native land, she was in a
forgiving humour. The worthy woman was made happy in the
end by Mr. Jenner praising, not only the outward appearance
of her countrymen, but also their mental capacity.















ALICK’S FIRST VOVAGE.

ee sf LETTER, a letter from papa, and all to myself!” cried

ye Cicely, bursting in under the little deck awning where
Betty was busy sewing, The children had gone up to the town
again after breakfast, and on calling at the post-office Cicely and
Frank had found a letter for each of them. “ And oh, Betty,
only hear the news!” continued Cicely. “ Papa is coming.to join
us at Edinburgh, and we are to leave the yacht, and go with him
afterwards by railway.”

“Yes; but hear what he says in mine,” cried Frank, who had
followed close upon his sister’s heels. “ Papa is going to take us
through a portion. of the Highlands, where we are to visit our
Unele John, who has taken a shooting-lodge near a place called
Inverary.”

“ Ah, you'll see something worth inking at thereaway,” said
Alick, the Scotch sailor, who had been sitting near Betty, coiling
some ropes. “The west coast is far before the east, to my
thinking. Youll be going up Loch Fyne: it is worth seeing,
IT can tell you. Good fifty miles long, they say it is, and
navigable for a much bigger yacht than this up to the Duke of
Argyle’s very castle gates. It’s more like a bit of the sea than
anything else, though it is queer to think of there being so much
salt water with high mountains on either side.”




102 The Children’s Voyage.





“Ah, how I should like to see it!” said Georgie. ‘“ Are
there many ships and sailors about it?”

“ Plenty of fishermen, at any rate,” said Alick, “not to speak
of the deer and the eagles, and other wild game, and the hill-
men, in tartan kilts, with the bagpipes playing.”

“T should like to see them awfully,” said Loo, “ but mamma
wants us to come home very quickly now, papa says; so I
suppose we shali have no chance.”

“Yes,” said Flora; “and instead of staying here another
day, we are to set sail at once, papa says. I, for one, am very
sorry, for I like this funny old place very much indeed.”

It was quite true what Flora said, for that very forenoon
Mr. Grogan received orders to sail again, and they left Berwick
with much regret. The yacht was taken much further out to
sea than ever she had been before, and by the afternoon land was
quite out of sight. For the first time a strange thrill passed
through the mind of more than one of the little group—a feeling
that all former grounds of experience were lost, and one had to
begin again with everything, as if ina new world. Baffling winds
and intervals of calm kept the vessel out; day after day passed,
and almost everyone grew weary—all except Tom Jenner, who
seemed to be never tired with the amusements to be got out of
the objects in the ship, the sailors’ occupations, and in silent
reveries ; while Georgie was pretty well content if he could but
fish and throw out lines to catch the sea-gulls.

“ How glad sailors must be to get a sight of land after a long
voyage,” said Frank.

“That they are,” said Alick, who had been standing watching
Georgie with his lines. ‘“ We were speaking a, little while ago of








Alick’s First Voyage. 103



Loch Fyne and the west coast. I remember well the feeling that
came over me after my first voyage when I saw Ailsa Craig tower-
ing out of the sea and the mist. Let me tell you, I’ve seen the
water standing in the eyes of weather-beaten old seamen at the
welcome sound of ‘Land!’ ay, and when the question was asked
by the captain himself, ‘ Where away ? it was often with a gulp
in his throat.”

“Oh, Alick, please tell us about your first voyage,” cried
Frank and Cicely together. “Were you very little when you
went to sea ?” inquired the latter. “Frank says you were.”

“ Well, I was twelve years old, miss, when I went to sea on
my first long voyage, though for two years before that I had
gone short trips in coasters with an uncle of mine. You see I
was born in the country, quite far away from the sea, with
nothing but a small burn or two near to make me think of it.
But somehow, from the very first time I can remember, the idea
of the sea had got hold of me. I had a whole fleet of boats and
little ships that I used to sail in a pool of the burn I dammed up
for the purpose, and nothing but stories of seamen and voyages
pleased me. When I was ten years old my uncle came to pay
us a visit, and the very smell of the tar about him, and the cut
of his pilot-coat turned my head. To sea [ would go, and then
and there, too. As my uncle was in want of a boy, and I was a
likely one enough, he consented to take me for a short while, to
please my mother, who would rather have me with him than
with a stranger. I really believe he wanted to give me a
sickening of the sea, he made my life so hard ; and in two years
I ran away from him and joined a ship that was bound on a
cruise round the world. The sight of Master George sitting and








104 The Children’s Voyage.



fishing for seagulls brings to my mind a rather laughable cireum-
stance that took place during that time.

“We had got into Cape latitudes, with a long sea athwart
course from south-east, made higher by a sort of under-swell
from westward. I never saw seas like the Cape ones yet for a
majestic solemnity of roll. Cape Horn pitches you worse with
its nasty cross-waves, and is ten times as dangerous, but for
grandeur it is beaten there. After we got into these latitudes,
our steward, a neat, black-visaged little cockney, had been busy
adding to his stock of curiosities. He had a contract with some
shopkeeper in Liverpool, and neither fish, fowl, nor weed came
wrong to him. Even the very sharks had no peace for him, and
he had managed to haul some over the taffrail. Here he had
caught no less than five albatrosses with a hook and line, which
he floated on a chip far astern. These noble white birds were
already stuffed, and stood in ghostly manner on a shelf outside
his pantry, which could be seen in passing the companion-stair ;
and I must say none of the men looked on them with any
pleasure. |

“One afternoon a solitary albatross, the largest and whitest
we had yet seen, was floating and hovering in our track. The
steward. stood on the stern-gratings for near two hours, trying to
add this specimen to his museum. At length the bait was
taken by the greedy king of sea-birds, and at one sweep he was
brought off the very top of a huge wave that rose with him, to
within the taffrail; his pure white outstretched wings, twelve
feet of spread at least, flapping down as goon as he was clear of
the wind. The steward took the hook out of his curved bill in
ixiumph, and the albatross floundered forward, all standing clear




Altick's First Voyage. 105



of him. Suddenly the captain’s voice was heard through the
skylight calling the steward. Immediately one of the men seized
the opportunity to shove the great helpless bird within reach of
the current of wind off the main-sheet. Its wings flapped upon
either side; there was a short struggle, which no one interfered
with, and away went the creature, with a scream, high up into
the breeze, just in time for the captor, on his return, to see it
disappearing.

“The. steward swore, and was in a great rage, but went on
with his sport. Though he had given up all hope of the
albatross, he contented himself by trying to catch some ‘ Mother
Carey’s chickens,’ or stormy petrels, which were scattered in our
wake. Little sooty black things they are, that hang in the hol-
lows of the waves, their wings spread wide open and their feet
touching the water, and looking as if they ran along it. Now,
every seaman likes these funny little birds, and more than one of
our crew scowled at the steward for going on with his sport. The
sailmaker, ‘old Sam,’ was at the wheel—the prime salt of the star-
board watch, but as superstitious as an Italian mariner. As long
as the captain was on deck, he only kept the corner of his eye
on the steward behind him; but as soon as the cabin dinner was
on the table, and the steward up again, old Sam slewed round.

“ this here work ?’

«< ing out his line once more. ‘Mind your helm, my man.’

“Took out then, I tell ye, stoor’d,’ was all Sam answered.

“In the same dog-watch, just after the jib had been stowed,
the steward was standing forward at the galley speaking to the










106 The Children’s Voyage.



cook, who was inside it—nobody else being on deck except my-
self and old Sam at the wheel. Several heavy waves from ahead
pitched their spray over the weather bow; but the old sailor
knew well enough how to ease her. All of a sudden, without
looking, I felt there was a combing swell rising, just as the ship
pitched, and I held on by the mizen rigging. The heave of that
water was no joke, | felt; but Sam winked to me, and put down
two spokes of his wheel. One moment I saw the unlucky
steward staggering up for a belaying-pin, the next a tremendous
top of a sea took us in the fore-shrouds, and I lost sight of him
beneath a splash of white water, that washed him half up the
spars amidships. Another instant and the ship was rising clear on
the summit of another wave—the clew of the fore-topsail shaking
out full again, as I looked down into the black depths over which
she hung. Old Sam said nothing while the steward came drip-
ping aft ; but when the cockney shook his fist at him—‘I thou’t,’
said Sam, coolly, ‘as no good ’ud come o’ fishing for them birds;
were getting a sea on, stoor’d, I’m afcard.’

“After this we had five days of wild weather, rising in the
end to a regular storm, and lying-to; not a dry stitch on our
backs the whole time, hard to get anything to eat but biscuit,
turn out to watch, and turn in to sleep. That was a hard time,
I can tell you, young ladies; and I very nearly made up my —
mind then to give up the sea for ever, if only I could get safely
ashore again. But by the time the ship got back all her ordi-
nary canvas, and was making off eleven knots an hour, with a
white rush of water back to her fore-chains, while her rigging
looked lively and gay with the clothes of all kinds that were

hung out aloft to dry after the late gales, I forgot my determi-




es
feats


Alick's First Voyage. 109



nation; and I don’t think, from that time to this, I ever once
thought of giving up the sea for a life on land. Still, for all
that, I was as eager as the rest when we were on the look-out
for land; and that very time, when we came up the Clyde, there
wasn’t one on board was better pleased at sight of the well-known
landmarks. As we stood off the Isle of Arran, I declare I scared
some sea-birds by my shouting—leastways, I got a cuff on the
side of the head from the mate that sobered me for a time ; as he
said I was yelling loud enough to bring down a dozen pilots, and
we had one aboard already. It’s a grand sight, I can tell you, to
see the green hills of the Clyde after a long voyage like that.”
























THE BASS HOCK.

2)N the early morning, just at sunrise, the children were

called up to see a splendid sight, connected with the

most remarkable historical associations. The wide
opening of the great Firth of Forth was before the vessel, spread-
ing in sweltering expanse of leaden-coloured light, while the sky
behind was aflame over the ocean horizon with the hues of the
dawn. To the North, on the right, was the greenish shape of the
Isle of May, with the light of its beacon tower gradually fading
until at length it went out. On the left, was the high rough
coast of Scotland towards Edinburgh, with the grey ruins of the
famous castle of Tantallan. Standing out from this, in the sea,
appeared the still more celebrated Bass Rock, a huge lump of

* cliff amidst the waves, towering four hundred feet sheer upwards,
as Mr. Grogan explained.

“Tt must be rather difficult to get up on it,” said Mr. Simcox,
“either for friends or foes.”

“Yes, you are right there, sir,” replied Mr. Grogan; “and I
remember getting a good ducking there myself. I had gone out
on a pleasure excursion to see the island, along with some friends
of mine, and was busy helping out one of the young ladies, when
her foot slipped and she pulled me into the water with her.
Fortunately I could swim well, and we were got safely up on the
rough and only landing—which can hardly be called a landing—



t






The Bass Rock. 111



at the expense of a good ducking. We spent a very happy day,
notwithstanding, and were much interested in seeing the thou-
sands of sea-birds that frequent the place. One of our party fired
off a gun, and for a moment the air was darkened as if by a
great cloud, with the number that took wing on hearing the
report. They are of all sizes, and scream in all variety of notes.
I have been told, that to visit the place at sunrise is one of the
most extraordinary sights to be seen in Scotland.”

“Ay, but, Mr. Grogan, have you nothing better to tell the
children about the Bass than the sea-birds and geese that lay
their eggs there?” said Betty, looking so very wise that Mr.
Grogan was tempted to answer,—“I knew you were better in-
formed about it than I am, Betty; so I left that for you to tell.”

“Ay, the poor Covenanters, they are little thought about
now-a-days,” said Betty. “The most dreary and desolate prisons
were chosen when these God-fearing men were banished ; and the
Bass Rock there could tell many a sad tale if it could but speak.
[ mind my father telling us that John Blackadder, no to speak
o many more, was confined, and tortured I dinna doubt; and I
mind a story he told us about ane Andrew Peden, who was a

prophet. He was saying his prayers, when a wee lassie, ain 0’
the sodgers’ bairns belonging to the garrison, came to the door of
his cell, and hearing him, she mocked him. ‘ Puir thing,’ said
the good man, ‘you're mocking at the worship o’ God; but, ere
long, thy mirth will be stopped by a strange judgment.’

“Tt was said that, not long after, the lassie was walking
along the edge of the rock, when she slipped her foot, and a sud-
den blast o’ wind swept her into the sea. Oh, bairns,” said

Betty, solemnly, “learn from this, that it is an ill thing to meddle





Wh ee


112 The Chitdren's Voyage.





with Godly men; youll mind what the Bible says, ‘Touch not
the Lord’s anointed, or lay not thy hands upon His prophets.’”

“Tt certainly was a place of great importance to Scotland,
and must be very interesting for more reasons than one,” said
Mr, Jenner. “Apart from its being the state prison where the
persecuted Covenanters were confined, it was the last place to
hold out for James VII. I was reading, not long ago, of how
nobly the garrison held out till reduced by famine. So long as
they continued to receive supplies of provisions from France they
not only kept it, but they managed to capture several vessels .
with their armed row-boats, and greatly incommoded the
navigation of the Firth. Two men-of-war were at last sent to
reduce the place, but they were so severely damaged themselves,
that, after two days hard fighting, they were forced to retire for
repairs, the crews greatly mortified by the knowledge that they
had done very little damage to the enemy. After that they
blockaded the rock, and, to frighten people from helping the -
garrison by sending provisions from the shore, they hanged a
‘ gentleman who had done so within their view.

“T only wish I could get a few of the sea-birds,” said Georgie. -
“ What a number of eggs there must be about.”

“Have you ever heard anything about the solan goose or its
eggs, Master Georgie ?” asked Mr. Grogan.

“No, I don’t think I have,” replied Georgie. ‘ What is the
egg like, Mr. Grogan ?” ‘

“There is nothing very particular in the shape, but the solan
goose lays only one egg, which sticks to the rock, and will not
come off unless pulled by force. The eggs are hatched by the
birds holding them fast in their foot.”








~ (eneacrene “>







The Bass Rock. 115



“Oh, how strange,” said Frank. “Do the people eat the
birds, Mr. Grogan ?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Mr. Grogan, “though they have rather a
fishy taste, as they feed on herrings. It is said they come with
the herrings and go away with them again when they leave,
though there are always a few left behind during the winter.
They come in June and leave in September, and, what is
singular, they come in detachments. Before a new band arrives
there are always a few who come to the Bass as scouts, then the
main body follows. The Bass is the only island on the eastern .
coast frequented by the solan geese, owing, I dare. say, to its
being so rugged and inaccessible.

The harbour of Granton was reached during the course of
the day, the wind being favourable, and Mr. Simcox, along with
Mr. Jenner, went up to town to see if Mr. Hamilton had arrived
in Edinburgh, while the whole party of children were left in the
care of Mr. Grogan and Miss Dalby. They were allowed to go
on shore with Betiv, and walked as far as the fishing village of
Newhaven, where they were much amused. by the appearance of
the fisherwomen and their strange costume. One old woman
was very kind to them, indeed, and invited them into her cot-
tage, which was beautifully clean, much more so than many of her
neighbours ; but, as she said, she had no young children, and her
husband and eldest son were mostly always out in the boat, and
her daughter kept the house tidy, while she carried the loaded
erecl of fish to Edinburgh. The little girl gave them several
pretty scallop shells before they left, and at Mary Jenner's sug-
gestion they determined to make a pincushion with them and
keep them in remembrance of their pleasant voyage.






116 Lhe Children’s Voyage.



“Oh, dear,” said Cicely, “if it wasn’t that I am very glad to
see papa again, I am so sorry the voyage has come to an end ;
we have been so very happy lately.”

“And so am I,” said Flora. “It is quite a pity to separate
now, just when we were getting to be so friendly and to know
each other better.”

“Well, but perhaps we shall meet again next summer,” said
Loo; ‘it would be very strange to have to say good-bye and
never see each other again. It really is quite absurd ; don’t speak
of such an idea; of course we shall meet again. I tell you we
must torment papa to take us all to sea again, and go right round
Great Britain and Ireland.”

“Ah, but he won’t though,” said Georgie: “I heard papa
telling Mr. Jenner that he intends to go to Norway with some
friends next summer.”

“But we may be able to coax him out of such a notion,” said
Flora. “At any rate, Mary and Tom must come up to our house
in London, and it will be quite easy for Cicely and Frank to
come too. And Betty too, of course.”

“T thought I was to be left out of the invitation,” said Betty,
smiling. “I’m sure you must all be glad to get rid of such a
cross old nurse.”

“ No—no,” said everyone, “we really couldn’t have got on
without you, dear Betty.” “And,” said little Loo, flinging her
arms round the good woman’s neck, “ please to get ever so many
stories ready for us, and let every one begin—‘I mind when I
was young.”

“Well, well, bairns,” said Betty, the tears standing in her
kind eyes, “I'll tell you this now, that at first I wished myself






The Bass Rock. LL7



well out of the Water Fairy and back in London, but after
visiting and seeing so many interesting places I could wish to
sail about for a good while longer.”

“Till the winter comes,” said Tom Jenner, slyly ; for it was
known that Betty was afraid of rough weather. “ You would
need to get the clerk of the weather to insure us against storms.”

“ But what I was going to say when Master Tom interrupted
me was this,” said Betty; “the storms without were certainly
disagreeable, but there is a kind of storm within that troubled
me more. I had a hard enough time of it with that kind of
squally weather; but I am happy to think that everyone of you
is not only healthier, but happier, because you've all been trying
lately to bear and forbear the one with the other.”

The children looked at each other and there was not one of
them but felt the truth of the remark; all were convinced that
Betty was right, and they began to see that she had had a sad
time of it with them sometimes. “ Well, well,” as Tom said,
~ “Jet us be thankful that Betty is of so forgiving a disposition ;
and ‘all’s well that ends well.’”

When they returned to the yacht Mr. Hamilton was waiting
for Cicely and Frank, and no time was lost in getting their
boxes placed upon the carriage that stood waiting on the pier.
He was delighted with their improved appearance, and could not
thank his friend, Mr. Simcox, sufficiently for the pleasure he had
given them. As they drove off Tom and Georgie got into the
rigging and gave them a parting salute, the crew cheered, and



the little girls who were left behind waved their handkerchiefs
to Cicely in the carriage, until the corner of the hotel hid them
from sight.










ROB ROV’S CAVE,

E shall now accompany our two young friends, the
Hamiltons, a short distance into the Highlands, leaving

2) the rest of the party in the Water Fairy to pursue
their way back-to London. Cicely, although she had enjoyed
the trip. amazingly, was very glad to find herself safe on shore
once more. Indeed she seemed to be on the point of flying up
like a balloon, as Betty said, or, as Frank laughingly remarked,
exploding like a rocket; so that it was no very easy matter to
"keep her over-abundance of spirits within due bounds.

“Come, come, Miss Cicely,” said Betty, “it’s far from being
pretty of you to be going on at that rate, and you just parted
from your friends ; you ought to be more sober.”

But Cicely flung her arms round the good woman’s neck,
saying, “Oh, please Betty, don’t scold, ’m only happy to find
myself in your beloved Scotland, and within sight of the grand
old castle of Edinburgh too,” which remark was quite enough to



soften Betty’s heart.

“Papa is going to take us to see it to-morrow,” said Frank.
“He thinks there may be time before we start for the Highlands,
and if it can be managed we are going to Holyrood Palace too.”




Rob Roys Cave. 119



“T do hope there will be time,” said Cicely; “I should so
much like to see the rooms poor Queen Mary lived in. Miss
Dalby says her workbox is there, and a very funny little looking-
glass, the very first ever seen in Scotland. Very likely she
brought it over with her from France.” .

“Aye, nae doot, said Betty. “She brought a wheen mair
things frae France that Scotland never saw before, and I cannot
say it improved the auld country much.”

“Qh, surely Betty you are not turning against Queen Mary,”
said Cicely, in great surprise ; “you, who speak so much in her
praise in London, and say such things against Queen Elizabeth.”

“ Oh, yes, nae doot,” replied Betty once more, “ but we canna
shut our eyes a’ thegether to her fauts. But you'll see the wee
room. she lived in in the castle, and you'll no wonder at me being
angry at the English queen for keeping her there, and forcing
our last king to be born in such a place. The whole room is no
bigger than your papa’s bed at home, if as big. And then
the poor wee infant was put in a basket and lowered down from
such a height to some friends below, who took him an’ hid him
safely from his mother’s enemies, puir wee mannie.”

To the great delight of the children, they managed to see
both castle and palace, and one or two other places of interest
before leaving the city, and, to add to their enjoyment, the
weather was everything that could be wished, so that they were
able to see, not only the distant hills of Fife on the other side of
the Forth, but they fancied they could see the Water Fairy with
her sails set, making a speedy passage homeward.

After leaving the train they went by stage coach to the hotel
where they were to pass the night. Their papa was so kind as


120 The Children’s Voyage.



to allow them to sit outside beside him, laughing at Betty’s fuss
about the danger of taking cold or falling off. ‘“ Why, Betty,”
Mr. Hamilton said, “I thought no one ever took cold in the
Highlands. I’ve been in what you would call a Scotch mist for
hours, and I know I never sneezed once though I was soaked to
the skin.”

“Oh, that’s true, sir,” said Betty, “but,” she added slyly,
“gentlemen can take a sip of brandy or what not from their
pocket flasks, which bairns canna do. As for Master Frank the
sooner he begins to be hardy the better, but Miss Cicely will be
safer inside with me.”

Cicely, however, was allowed to remain, and she had such a
snug seat between her papa and a gentleman, whose name was
Grahame, who told them such funny stories, and seemed to know
every inch of ground for miles round. “Td advise you to stay a
day at Aberfoyle if you can,” he said to Mr. Hamilton. “It
will take you only a little way out of your route, and the
scenery is not only worth the delay, but there are many
interesting places about connected with Rob Roy, that Master
Frank would like to see.”

“Rob Roy,” cried Frank. “Oh, papa do let us see them,
T know such a lot about him, for Betty read the story to us
when we were ill.”

“ Ah, I see you are as enthusiastic as I was at your years,”
said Mr. Grahame. ‘ Well, I hope if you do pay a visit to Rob
Roy’s cave, you will not be so unfortunate as I was when I last
visited it,”

“What did you do, sir, if you please?” enquired Cicely,

“Well, I had gone with a picnic party to the largest island


Rob Roy's Cave. 121



in Loch Ard, but we had not been very long there when down
_ came the Scotch mist upon us, and a pretty thick blanket it was
too. Fortunately there is a small house there that some good
Samaritan has built, and its doors are left open for benighted way-
farers such as we were. There is a grate in the large room, along
with a good table, and rough benches, and we soon had a large,
blazing fire, and made up our minds to enjoy ourselves in spite
of the dismal state of affairs outside. Towards the afternoon it
showed signs of clearing a little, and I determined to set off on a
sort of exploring expedition in search of ferns and of Rob Roy’s
cave. No one cared to join me, so I went alone, getting the
boatman to row me to a point where I could easily make my
way along the banks of the Loch. I was so successful in getting
the ferns I wanted that I set out at once to find the cave.
I had been told that scarcely an hour's walk would bring me to
the castle of Duchry, where Rob Roy, it was said, was confined,
but had escaped by jumping out of the window, which was
a considerable height from the ground. I stood a moment hesi-
tating about going there or not, but the mist began to sift down
again, flying like soft clouds in my face, and covering my hair
and beard with hundreds of dew-drops, beautiful in their way,
no doubt, but anything but agreeable to carry about with one.
I, therefore, decided to try the cave, and found it sure enough.
After a little scrambling among the rocks, I was just on the
point of entering the narrow slit in the rocks that formed the
opening to the cave, when I slipped and fell, twisting my
ankle so severely that it was with the greatest difficulty I could
drag myself up again and creep into the cave for shelter.
Every moment seemed an age, and I was only cheered by hearing




122 The Children’s Voyage.



the rain pouring down fast and furious, for I thought it would
help to drive my friends home sooner, when I expected they
would hunt me out. But, alas, it so happened they had for-
gotten me for the time, and I had the pleasure of hearing them
calling from Helen’s Rock on the other side, all sorts of things
to rouse Madam Echo. I bawled out as loud as I could, but
was answered by a shrill chorus of ‘Rob Roy MacGregor O!’
led by a young man, who fancied he was a very good singer, and
who had sung nearly the whole day. Ever after, I hated
the name of that song. As night came on, I must own I felt
anything but comfortable, and I could not help thinking that
Rob Roy must have been a man of some nerve as well as sinew
to have made that place his chosen abode for one night. Not
for all the Highland cattle in existence would I have endured it
another night.”

“But had you to stay all night in the cave?” asked Cicely.

“Yes, I had, Miss Cicely,” replied Mr. Grahame, “ but I was
not quite alone all the time, for a young collie dog belonging
to one of my friends, and who had taken a very great fancy to
me, found me out by some means or other. I must own that,
though I was very glad to have his company, at first I got a
good fright when he pushed his cold nose into my hand. The
next morning my non-appearance alarmed my friends, and a
search was made for me, and by the help of the dog I was
discovered, and taken to the Hotel, where my foot was attended
to. I was not able to go about for nearly a fortnight, and
during all the time my faithful friend the collie was my constant
companion, and so attached did he seem to me that my friend
made me a present of him, to our mutual satisfaction.”




Rob Roy's Cave. 123



“Oh, I am so glad of that,” said Frank.” “He must have
been a splendid fellow; but how did he find you out in the
cave 4” :

“By his wonderful instinct, I suppose,” said Mr. Grahame.
“i have heard some extraordinary stories about collie dogs; they
must be very intelligent.”

“You are right, sir,” said a man who was sitting on the back
seat. “I heard the other day a wonderful one that was said to
be quite true. A drover had brought some sheep from the High-
lands to a market held somewhere near the Border, and, having
sold them to two Englishmen, the three went into an inn to
conclude the bargain over some refreshments. The drover had
come a long distance that day, and the drink he then took quite
upset him, so that he was persuaded to lie down in a corner of
the room, the landlord promising to waken him when the moon
rose. Very soon he was fast asleep, with his faithful dog lying
under his chair, resting from his labours, for he had had the
hardest time of it in bringing down the sheep. When the moon
rose the drover was roused, and seemed to be quite refreshed
by his sleep, and, as the two Englishmen had no dog of their
own, he bade his faithful collie take the sheep to a particular
cross-road. The dog gave a yelp in reply, as much as to say he
understood the order quite well, and in a short time he had
the sheep collected, along with some others they had bought
from other people, and set out on his way, followed by the twe
Englishmen in a gig behind. When they had reached the inn
at the cross-road, where the men were to rest for a few hours,
they made the dog get in with them, apparently to receive his
reward in the shape of some bread and milk; but no sooner did


124 The Children’s Voyage.



they get him securely than they tied a rope round his neck,
intending to steal him. Lying in a corner of the room was a
man sound asleep, with his over-coat tucked under his head, and
after the landlord had supplied the Englishmen’s wants and had
left the room, one of them crept towards the sleeping man and
gently drew out his coat. After searching in several of the poc-
kets he came upon a pocket-book, from which he took a large
roll of notes; he then put the book back, and stuffed the coat
under the sleeper’s head again. The two Englishmen then lay
down on the benches and went to sleep, when the collie, after
gnawing the string they had used to fasten him to the leg of the
table, made his escape, and collecting all the sheep in the meadow
where they had been placed, drove them back again, giving
them no rest until he had them safely on their native hills
once more. By that time the alarm had been given of the
robbery, and the two men, being forced to wait in the neighbour-
hood to look after their lost sheep, were taken upon suspicion,
and the money found on them.”

“Do you really think that the dog knew they were robbers ?”
said Frank.

“Well, it looked very like it, sir,” said the traveller. “The
sagacious collie might suspect that, if they could steal him,
they might be playing a trick on his master, and. it would be
better to make sure.”

“Tt was so clever of the dog,” said Cicely, “and I am so glad the
horrid men were cheated. The collie dogs must be quite as
clever as the dogs of St. Bernard, who dig people out of the
snow and carry medicine to them.”

“T wish we could keep a collie in London,” said Frank.




Rob Roy's Cave. 125



“Papa,” he continued coaxingly, ‘‘ you know you promised we
might keep a dog some day ; please let us have a collie.”

“Well, we shall see,” said Mr. Hamilton, laughing. “I fear
even a collie would stand a poor chance in the city ; it would be
sure to be stolen.”

“ Oh there's no fear of a Scotch collie, sir,” said Betty ; “they
have more sense than to take up with English folk, or people out
of their own house, I ought rather to say. Tl gie ye my word
for it sir, if ye let the bairns have a dog o’ that kind, he'll find
his way back if a’ the dog-stealers in the town were after him.”

“Ab, if Betty takes your side I must give in,” said Mr.
Hamilton ; “and I might have known what would be the result
when a Scotch dog was in the case. But here we are at the end
of our journey for this day, and I for one am heartily glad.”

After dinner, when Frank and Cicely were looking out of the
window, they saw a little boy draw a large eel out of the river
that ran close by the Hotel, which went wriggling about on the
bank like a great serpent, even after his head had been cut off.
“Oh!” cried Cicely, when she saw what he had done, “you are
a cruel boy to treat the poor thing so. I wonder how you could
do such a thing. It must be because you are Scotch, surely.
I never heard of such things being thought of in England.”

“Indeed there you are wrong, Miss Cicely,” said Betty, indig-
nantly ; “Scotch folk would scorn to eat them, but in London,
they not only skin them alive, but pop them into the frying-pan.”

“Oh, please don’t, Betty, I really can’t bear to hear any
more, it’s too shocking,” said Cicely.

At this moment, Mr. Grahame, the gentleman who had
travelled with them on the coach, came to say that, as their Papa


126 ~ The Children’s Voyage.



felt tired, he had gone to take a rest, but had consented to allow
them to go with him to pay a visit to the Clachan of Aberfoyle,
and on to Loch Ard. With such an intelligent companion to
point out all the places and tell them all sorts of stories about
Rob Roy, you may be sure the children enjoyed themselves
beyond everything, and it was not till long after the moon had
risen that they consented to leave the Loch, where they had been
gliding about in a boat for ever so long. They saw the rock
that Helen MacGregor stood upon and defied the old Bailie of
Glasgow, and amused themselves for ever so long in arousing
the echo, and, as it was a quiet, peaceful night, Madam Echo did
her very best, repeating distinctly ever so many words. It was
particularly funny to hear it answer, “Good night and joy be
with you a’,” for this was not only done by the echo opposite,
but by another in quite another direction. After that, Mr..
Grahame would not allow the shade, as he called it, to be further
disturbed, and they returned to the inn and to bed, as they had
to make an early start the next morning. They parted with
their good-natured fellow-traveller the next morning with mutual
regret, and as Hrank said, much though they enjoyed the High-
lands altogether, “that first day among the rocks of Rob Roy’s
Cave was the jolliest of all.”

“ Among these rocks he lived,
Through summer’s heat and winter’s snow ;
The eagle he was lord above,
And Rob was lord below.”



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